Star Wars: With the Dawn
by Bill382
Summary: After Aviendha unwittingly opens a gateway, she and Rand Al'Thor find themselves in the middle of a galactic war. As their companions struggle to find them, Rand and Aviendha are drawn into a devastating conflict between light and dark. The Wheel of Time turns in a galaxy far far away.
1. Chapter 1: The Car'a'carn

The Wheel of Time turns, and ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one age, called the Third Age by some, and age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Aiel Waste. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was _a_ beginning.

Westward the wind blew, billowing sand up in dancing clouds as it raced across the dunes. It passed into Rhuidean, the once deserted city of unfinished palaces surrounding the Tree of Life and shrouded in a dense, ghostly mist. The mist had long since lifted, and a lake of crystalline water now bordered the city. Few living Aiel had ever seen so much water in a single place. With water, the Aiel could once again call Rhuidean home. It was in one of Rhuidean's many palace-like structures that Rand Al'Thor felt the wind whistle through a window and break upon his youthful face. The wind billowed his red hair and ruffled his white coat and pants. He clutched the hilt of the sword on his hip and blinked with mild irritation as the wind entered his eyes. With a sigh, the Dragon Reborn pushed aside a velvet curtain and entered his personal chambers.

Standing before his mirror and washbasin was Aviendha, tall and muscular, naked as the day she was born. Her crimson hair hung loose past her shoulders and her pale skin seemed to shine in the dim sunlight. The apprentice Wise One's dress lay crumpled on the floor behind her. What was she doing here?

"Aviendha?" said Rand.

The former Maiden of the Spear turned. For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked. Then Aviendha put on a look of surprise and... shame? Rand couldn't tell. A silver line appeared in the air behind her, which opened to reveal a forest within a mountain pass. Before Rand could speak again, Avienda spun around and darted through the opening.

Blood and ashes! Rand thought as he ran into the forest after her. Their new surroundings strongly resembled the Mountains of Mist, but were somehow... different. The trees weren't as tightly packed together, nor were the mountains quite the same shape. But Rand didn't dwell on that train of thought as he needed to concentrate his full efforts on keeping up with Aviendha. The woman moved faster than a deer being chased by a wolf, and moved just as deftly. While Aviendha skilfully maneuvered around tree trunks and over jutting roots, Rand stumbled his way past the same obstacles. How under the Light had she transported them here? Where was here? Could they even get home? Panting with effort, Rand spotted Aviendha ahead of him, much deeper inside the woods. Suddenly she froze and flattened herself against a tree, then motioned for Rand to do the same, which he did, leaning beside her. Peering carefully out from their hiding place, Rand understood just what had caused Aviendha to stop running from him.

No more than twenty feet ahead was a steep ridge bordered by a pathway. Marching along that pathway... was an army. Rand and Aviendha, with their fronts to the army's right side, watched in silence. It was unlike any force that Rand had ever seen. A column of hundreds, maybe thousands of men clad from head to toe in black plate armor was marching through the forest. Their weapons, also black, loosely resembled crossbows without the draw arms. Metallic creatures on four legs walked among the soldiers like war hounds with their masters. Over a dozen men wearing black robes marched ahead of the soldiers. The stiff posture and menacing appearance of the robed men instantly reminded Rand of Myrddraal. Is that what they were? If so, why weren't any Trollocs with them? Had the Shadow gained an army of humans?

"Who are they?" Aviendha asked in a whisper.

"I could ask you the same," was Rand's reply. "They could be servants of the Shadow. Especially those men at the fore. Whoever they are, I doubt they'll be happy to see us."

"Let us be away from here."

Rand nodded in agreement. "Can you get us back?"

A helmetless soldier in white and red plate armor turned from behind a tree atop the ridge. He raised a tube-shaped weapon. Three bolts of yellow light flew from the weapon and exploded on the ground below, destroying several of the metallic creatures. Cries of pain and alarm rose up from the soldiers in black. A shout of triumph carried off from the ridge as dozens of soldiers in the same white and red armor jumped down into the fray, opening fire on the soldiers in black armor. Noise filled the air, overwhelming Rand's hearing. He hadn't heard such a racket since the last fireworks show at Emond's Field. The men in black robes all drew weapons that resembled swords with blades made of red light and charged the attackers. A battle had commenced.

Aviendha turned and ran from the battle, something she would never have done under different circumstances. As Rand followed, even more soldiers in white and red emerged from behind trees and rock formations, running in the opposite direction - towards the fighting.

"For the Republic!" one soldier shouted. "Down with the Empire!"

Republic? Rand thought. Empire?

"What were you two _doing_?!" roared another soldier, who stopped in front of Rand and Aviendha. He was a hulking man armed with a heavy tube-shaped weapon, much like that carried by the soldier who had started the fight. His face was obscured behind a helmet. "Couldn't wait until after the battle to procreate?" When Rand didn't respond, the soldier drew a weapon and shoved it into Rand's arms. "Take this blaster and come with us, Private," he said to Rand, then pointed at Aviendha. "Corporal, find some clothes and stay out of sight. Now let's MOVE!"

The soldier - a Sergeant, by his commanding tone - took off running towards the battle. Then Rand understood. The Sergeant had mistaken Rand and Aviendha for two soldiers under his command. Playing along, Rand hefted his new weapon and stormed after the Sergeant, following him into the pit of doom.

The scene ahead was one of pure chaos. The soldiers in white had flanked those in black on both sides, while the men in black robes were trying to break through the enemy lines. Bolts of red, yellow, and green light crisscrossed. through the air and the ground quaked with explosive detonations. Everywhere Rand looked, bolts flew, blades flashed, and men died. The Sergeant had unslung his weapon and was spraying numerous green bolts in rapid succession from it. He then spotted one of the men in a black robe running in his direction, light sword drawn. The man's hood was down, and Rand saw that his opponent had eyes. Not a fade, then, but an ordinary man. Expect for his blood-red skin. Rand sought the void, emptying all his emotions into the flame. With care he shouldered the 'blaster' that the Sergeant had given him, looked down the sights, centered on his target, and squeezed the trigger.

A bolt of green light shot out from the blaster. The red-skinned man raised a hand then knocked the bolt aside with an invisible blow. Rand felt goosebumps raise on his arms. The man was _channeling_! Hurriedly Rand threw down the blaster, drew his sword, and embraced the Source. _Saidin_ flowed into him like a torrent, filling him with life. Curiously, and even somewhat alarmingly, Rand didn't feel the taint. Why wasn't _saidin_ tainted here? No matter.

The red-skinned man charged Rand, jumping through the air and landing two paces away, swinging his light sword in a downward arc. Assuming a combat stance, Rand ducked the attack and countered with River Undercuts the Bank, which the man blocked. The light sword made a hissing noise when Rand's own metal sword made contact. Back and forth the two men dueled until their weapons locked, neither able to make a move.

"I am _Sith_ ," the red-skinned man spat. "And you will die here."

" _I_ am the Dragon Reborn," Rand retorted as he lifted a nearby rock and sent it hurtling into the Sith's side. The Sith grunted and fell to the ground heavily, dropping his light sword. Rand stabbed his own blade downward, aiming for his opponent's throat, but the Sith rolled to one side and leapt to his feet, retrieving his light sword with a flow of Air. Rand raised his sword for another duel, but the Sith merely outstretched his hand then wrapped a flow of Air around Rand's throat. Rand panicked and released _saidin_ , unintentionally leaving himself defenseless. He gasped in vain for breath as the Sith tightened his hold.

A sudden wave of Earth and Fire knocked the Sith off balance, causing him to release his grip on Rand. "Damn Jedi," the Sith growled as a third combatant joined the fight. Rand's unexpected savior was a raven-haired woman with pale skin. Selene? No. Selene wouldn't wear a relatively plain brown tunic and armored boots. Nor would she carry a light sword with a blue blade at each end. This woman was someone else entirely. Rand sheathed his sword, recovered his blaster, then watched as the woman engaged the Sith, the two of them dancing a deadly duel. The Sith's back was to Rand. That gave him an opportunity. Again seeking the void, Rand raised the blaster and looked down the sights. The Sith knocked the woman to the ground and raised his weapon for a killing blow. Rand fired.

A single green bolt struck the Sith square between his shoulder blades. For a moment, he froze, then collapsed in a heap as his life drained away. The woman stood up. "Look out!" she shouted, pointing behind him. "Droids!"

Rand spun around, weapon raised, and found himself facing a dozen of those strange metallic creatures. Before he could open fire, a stream of green bolts erupted from the right, tearing into the creatures. The Sergeant - or at least someone with a similar weapon - had come to his aid.

"Not the Car'a'carn!" Aviendha's voice bellowed, then Rand saw her. She was wearing a black robe over her nakedness and carrying a double-bladed light sword, likely taken from a dead Sith. Had she killed one herself? Rand wondered. The former Maiden of the Spear charged the creatures, slashing wildly with the light sword. Around her the mechanical creatures fell apart, ripped to pieces by the light sword's devastating blades. Rand joined in, firing on the creatures with his blaster. Within seconds they were all down. When the creatures were defeated, Aviendha gave Rand an approving smile. Rand returned the smile and waved as well.

Then the ground exploded beneath him.

* * *

"Get up, Car'a'carn," said Aviendha. "Mistress Satele wants a word with you."

Rand opened his eyes. Sunlight flooded in. He raised a hand to shield his face. He was on his back, still in the same woods where a battle had been raging just moments ago. His head hurt unbelievably, like he'd been kicked in the head by a horse. Rand groaned with pain as he sat up. Aviendha was kneeling beside him.

"Mistress who?" he asked, confused.

"Her." Aviendha pointed. Standing nearby was the woman that he'd rescued from the Sith earlier. She was talking with two soldiers, both of whom Rand recognized. One was the soldier who had fired the battle's opening shots, and the other was the tall, burly Sergeant who had directed Rand to join the battle. She looked his way, and motioned for him to join them. Rand stood up slowly, still dizzy from his head wound, but Aviendha steadied him. The woman bowed her head as Rand and Aviendha joined the trio.

"Hello Rand Al'Thor," the raven-haired woman said calmly. There was a serenity about her that would make any Aes Sedai proud. "I am Satele Shan, a Knight of the Jedi Order." With me is Sergeant Den Himelstos..." she motioned to the burly man. "...and Captain Jace Malcom." Both men saluted.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Rand said with a slight bow.

"Likewise, Mr. Al'Thor. Your lady, Aviendha, has informed me that she and you are not of this world. Is that correct?"

"It is," Rand answered with a nod.

"And that I mistook you both for Private Mercana and Corporal Janiss," Himelstos added, "a pair of lovebirds in my platoon."

"An unfortunate mistake, Den," Malcom remarked. "But it appears to have worked out for the best."

"Mistress Satele, I must ask," Rand continued, "where are we?"

She gave him a puzzled look. "Why, you're on Alderaan, of course."

Rand looked at Aviendha, who just shrugged.

"I sense the Force within you both," Satele went on. "In time you could both become powerful Jedi."

"Jedi?" Rand asked, still lost in translation. "The Force? What are you talking about?"

"Is your head full of sand?" Aviendha sneered. "Here they call the One Power 'The Force.' Jedi are Wise Ones to these people."

Rand nodded, starting to understand. "What are you offering, Mistress Satele?"

"I am offering you a chance to get home. Aviendha explained to me just how you arrived here. Unless you learn the ways of the Force, you will not be returning home." Satele extended her hand.

Rand sighed. He wasn't too thrilled about throwing his lot in with a stranger, no matter how pure their intentions might be. Look what had happened when he left the Two Rivers with Moiraine. Now he was about to go through a similar experience. But it was clear that he had no other choice. "Very well," he said, and shook Satele's hand.

A faint smile appeared on the Jedi's lips. "Welcome to the Jedi Order, Rand Al'Thor."


	2. Chapter 2: The Gambler

"The Car'a'carn is missing!"

These words spread throughout Rhuidean the following morning. Aiel Maidens, warriors, and Wise Ones alike were scouring every corner of the city for any trace of the Dragon Reborn. Matrim Cauthon, ashandarei balanced on his shoulder, kept well out of their way. Mat certainly did not blame his friend for leaving. After all, how else to get free of Aes Sedai plots than by putting as much distance as possible between yourself and them? Mat had wanted an escape from the Aes Sedai, but all he'd ended up with was a foxhead medallion and the memories of dead men. What kind of a deal was that? Light! Those fox people were even more sneaky than their four-legged counterparts.

The gambler made his way across the city's vast central square, in the center of which stood Avendesora, the Tree of Life. It had been scorched during some kind of fight between Rand and one of the Forsaken (or so Rand claimed). The Wise Ones were none too pleased about that. Surrounding the tree were hundreds of ancient artifacts. Moiraine had called them 'angreal' - devices capable of allowing a channeler to draw in more of the One Power than they could otherwise. Ahead of Mat was the twisted redstone doorframe, on the other side of which he'd met the bloody Eelfinn. The doorframe was a ter'angreal, performing one specific function: leading all those who entered to the realm of the Finn. Mat could never pass through that doorframe again, for which he was grateful. The bloody Eefinn could burn for all Mat cared. Then Mat noticed something most unusual. Not about the doorframe, or Avendesora, but about the courtyard itself. A silver line had appeared in the air, then widened to show a desert landscape, showing cliffs of sandstone with monolithic statues carved into them. What under the Light could that opening be? And what was it doing here? Then again, the landscape beyond looked strangely familiar...

Mat approached the opening slowly, half-expecting Shadowspawn to pour out of it. "Stop Mat!" a voice called from behind. The gambler spun around, and spotted Lan Mandragoran striding toward him. The stony Warder was clad in his Malkieri battle armor and his color-shifting cloak billowed behind him, as though he was ready for battle.

"Ah, Lan," said Mat with a grin. "Just the man I wanted to see."

"This is no laughing matter, farmer. Stay there. Moiraine Sedai will want to see this."

Lan turned and broke into a run. He returned a short time later trailing behind Moiraine Damodred, his Aes Sedai. The petite raven-haired woman wore a serene, ageless expression, even when faced with a complete unknown. Mat could only wonder just how she maintained such composure. Beside her walked Amys and Rhuarc, the Wise One and Clan Chief of the Taardad Aiel. The towering, _cadin'sor_ -clad Clan Chief looked baffled when he saw the mysterious opening, as if he'd just lost a game of dice rigged in his favor. Amys, by contrast, wore an expression that matched Moiraine's.

"Most curious," said Amys when the party halted beside Mat, standing five paces from the opening. "Moiraine Sedai, do you know what this is?"

"I do know, Wise One," Moiraine replied, eyes staring straight ahead. "That is a gateway. No one has seen them for many generations. Even the Aes Sedai have forgotten how to open them. The knowledge of Traveling is lost to us."

"The Maidens guarding the _Car'c'carn_ 's chambers reported seeing one these "gateways" after he and Aviendha vanished," Rhuarc added. "I suspect they went through it."

"Should we go through this one?" Mat asked.

Lan and Rhuarc both shot him disgusted looks.

Mat threw up a hand. "Hey, it was only a suggestion."

"But one we must consider, Mat." It was Moiraine who spoke. "This is the second such gateway that we have seen, and both times they appeared near _taver'en -_ first by Rand, and now next to you. It stands to reason that _taver'en_ are drawn to these gateways."

"Are you saying... that I should go through it?" Mat asked. He could scarcely believe what Moiraine was suggesting. This was an even worse idea than following Rand into Rhuidean weeks ago. "Alone?"

"No," Amys chimed in, stepping forward. "You will not go alone. I shall accompany you on this journey."

Moiraine nodded. "As will Lan."

The Warder began to protest. "My place is by your side, Moiraine. And besides, who only knows what lies through that gateway."

Moiraine took Lan's hand, looking the stoic man in the eye. "You will stay safe. And in doing so you shall guard the lives of Amys and Mat. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, my old friend." The Aes Sedai released her Warder's hand, which then went promptly to his sword hilt. Lan then strode up and stood beside Mat. Amys gave her husband a parting embrace before joining them.

"Well," said Mat, hefting his ashandarei. "We're about to embark on a grand adventure to unknown place with an impossible goal. What are we waiting for?"

With Mat in the lead, the Wise One, Warder, and gambler all stepped through the gateway.

The dice started clattering in Mat's head.

* * *

The trio emerged on the edge of a sandstone cliff. The air around them burned with a dry desert heat. Below them stretched a valley dotted with colossal, towering sandstone statues in various states of decay. The ruins of ancient structures stood among the statues. A layer of golden, yellowish sand lined the valley floor. A different structure, built from metal rather than stone, stood tall at the valley's far end, and had an imposing, oppresive appearance. What was it? A fortress? Were it not for the metal building, Mat would believe that he and his companions were still in the Aiel Waste.

"Something's not right," Amys said softly. "This place is not at all like the mountainous woodlands that the Maidens reported seeing. Furthermore, this place feels... corrupted. Tainted."

"What do you mean, Wise One?" Lan inquired. Even the stoic Warder seemed unnerved by this place.

"It's... the Source. Darkness. There is a great darkness within the True Source here."

Memories of dead men surged into Mat's mind. Memories of an exiled people taking revenge. Of great warlords asserting their rule through brutal strength. Of great wars fought on the ground and among the stars. Of a homeworld lost for a thousand years being reclaimed by its rightful owners...

"I know where we are," said Mat. "Korriban. This planet is called Korriban. Home of the Sith. The valley below us is the Valley of the Dark Lords, where ancient Sith were laid to rest." He pointed his ashandarei at the distant metal structure. "And that building is the Sith Academy." Blood and bloody ashes, they were on a different _planet_!

"Who are the Sith?" Amys asked.

"They're an ancient and powerful race," Mat continued, "The ability to channel the Force is widespread among their species. I guess the "Force" is the One Power to these people."

"Are they foes?" Lan demanded to know.

"Absolutely, Lan. But this valley will be crawling with them."

"Then we use stealth."

"Agreed. I suggest you keep that color-shifting cloak of yours close."

A whirring noise sounded overhead, prompting the trio to duck down low. Seconds later a machine resembling a giant metal bird with black wings flew overhead. The machine slowed to a stop over the Academy, where it lowered straight down and disappeared behind a rocky ridge.

Mat pointed to where the machine had vanished. "That interceptor is our way off this rock," he said to Amys and Lan. "Now let's get going. We'll find Rand the sooner we get out of here."

And so the trio set off toward the infamous Sith Academy.

"Farmer," the Warder whispered behind Mat, "How did you learn so much about this place?"

Mat paused, uncertain of how best to answer the Warder's question. "It's quite a story, Lan," was his answer. "Remind me to tell you sometime." The dice kept up their racket.

* * *

Night fell over Korriban. Throughout the day Lan, Mat, and Amys had moved skillfully and invisibly through the valley, careful to stay out of sight from passing patrols and students - 'acolytes,' the Sith called them. More than once they had to take shelter in one of the tombs, then need to defend themselves from the local fauna, who were more inclined to eat the trio than ignore them. Earlier Mat had killed one particular nasty beast that resembled a worm with multiple pairs of legs and a gaping maw of teeth for a mouth.

And here I thought Trollocs were ugly, Mat thought after slaying creature. Light!

The three companions were now inside the tomb nearest the Academy - that of the great Ajunta Pall. All was quiet in the valley beyond. Lan, crouching by the doorway beneath his color-shifting cloak, motioned Amys and Mat to follow him. They sprinted across the open sand up to the steps of the Academy, where Lan suddenly forced them to the ground.

"Two guards," Lan whispered to Amys. "Both armed and looking our way. Can you get them to look elsewhere?"

"Yes," the white-haired Wise One whispered back. Mat felt the foxhead medallion grow cold on his chest. A nearby statue toppled off its pedestal, landing heavily atop a pile of metal crates. The crates made a painful crunching sound as the statue crushed them.

The guards both raised their blaster rifles. "What the..." one exclaimed before rushing off to investigate the noise. His comrade quickly followed. As they ran off, Mat and company bolted into the Academy.

They emerged into the Academy's broad entrance hall. "This way," said Mat, leading the trio up a flight of stairs and into an elevator. The elevator led them into a darkened corridor, which ended abruptly, widening into a huge docking back. The interceptor that they had sighted earlier was parked at the far end. As they entered the docking bay, Mat noticed that the enormous room was silent and empty. His memories - rather, the memories of dead men - reminded him that docking bays were usually hives of activity, even at late hours. Why was this one so quiet?

The igniting of two lightsabers provided his answer. "Turn around," a woman's voice commanded. "Slowly."

Mat, Lan, and Amys reluctantly obeyed, and found themselves facing a Sith Lord. The female Sith wore a robe of black and violet with long metal pauldrons over her scarlet skin. She stared back at them with piercing yellow eyes, a red lightsaber in each hand. Her face, perhaps once beautiful, looked as though its owner was constantly mad. Mat thought she stood in sharp contrast to Aes Sedai. Whereas they were models of serenity, this woman was pure _rage_. To either side of the Sith stood three acolytes - two human males, a Twil'ek female, and three Zabrak males. All had vibroswords drawn and ready.

"I knew that I sensed a disturbance in the Force," the Sith continued in a deceivingly sing-song voice. "But who would have thought that a _taver'en_ would grace us with their presence? Welcome, Matrim Cauthon. I am Lord Nakrin."

Mat whispered into Amys' ear. "If this goes poorly, engage the Sith and her friends while I get the interceptor airborne. Then run and climb aboard." He whispered the same words to Lan, then stepped forward. The dice began rolling faster and louder in his mind. "I was expected, Lord Nakrin? Where's the welcoming feast?"

The Sith Lord chuckled. "There will be one in time. But for now, the Dark Council wishes to meet you."

"What does your Dark Council want with me? I'm just a simple gambler."

Lord Nakrin shook her head. "You fail to understand. That knowledge you possess could turn the war in the Empire's favor."

"Do you mean the knowledge of how to milk a cow? Or catch a badger?"

"Don't get funny!" Nakrin snapped. "Now lower your weapons or else we shall take you before the Dark Council in chains." She twirled her lightsabers threateningly. The blades hummed with the motion.

Lan drew his sword. Mat shifted his ashandarei to his left hand, then discreetly slipped a knife into his right. "Lord Nakrin, your offer is tempting - as are you - but we cannot stay. Walk in the Light!"

Mat tossed the ashandarei to Amys and threw the knife before turning to run at a full sprint towards the interceptor. His medallion turned icy cold as Amys embraced the Force (the Source?). The knife struck one of the human acolytes in the stomach. He doubled over and whimpered in pain. Lord Nakrin roared in fury and charged forward while Lan met her attack. His blade clashed with her two lightsabers. Amys threw herself at the acolytes and a melee ensued between the Wise One, the Warder, and the six Sith.

Mat scrambled up the interceptor's gangway, only to find the entry hatch sealed. He pounded furiously at the keypad beside the door. "Burn me, open up!" He bellowed. The door hissed and slid open. "Thank you," Mat muttered as he ducked aboard the starship and sprinted to the control room. A lone astromech droid was already there. The droid was a small, squat machine, with a disc-shaped head mounted atop a boxy chassis. Four metal "legs" with wheels mounted beneath them supported the droid's chassis. The machine twittered a greeting as Mat entered the cockpit.

"Captain = Welcome aboard. G5 = Happy to see you. Fury-class interceptor = Ready to fly!"

"That's good news, droid." said Mat as he took a seat in the seat the pilot's chair. "Now help me get this bird in the air."

The droid beeped acknowledgement then rolled up to a control panel, extending a small metal arm to plug itself into the ship's navigation systems. The ship's twin ion engines came to life with a roar. Mat lifted the ship ten feet off the docking bay's floor, then rotated the hull to starboard until he could see the melee below through the cockpit window. Amys was still fighting with the acolytes. Three of them were down, including the one who took Mat's knife to his gut, while the remaining three were being pressed hard by the Wise One. Mat didn't pity them. Anyone who attacked a Wise One such as Amys was asking for trouble. Lan was still dancing the blades with Lord Nakrin. The Sith was down to just one lightsaber, with the second presumably having been destroyed by Lan. Neither the Wise One nor the Warder could board the ship while engaged in combat. How to get them out of it...?"

Mat grinned as an idea came to him. "Droid, power up the forward blaster cannons. And the PA system."

"Weapons + Public Address = Online!"

Mat pushed a button on the PA control panel. "Amys, down!" His voice boomed. Amys dove to the floor. Mat opened fire with the ship's blaster cannons. Half a dozen bolts or green light flew from the cannons and tore into the acolytes, killing two of them instantly. The third was killed by Amys with a slash across the throat. Lan appeared to have bested Lord Nakrin, who was now frantically trying to keep from being overwhelmed. Suddenly Lan went flying backwards through the air and landed heavily on his back. Mat fired upon the now exposed Lord Nakrin. The Sith skillfully knocked the bolts aside with her lightsaber.

Mat stood up from the pilot's chair. "Get us over there, droid," he barked, pointing at the downed Warder. "Let's bring my friends aboard."

The droid twittered but Mat ignored it, running aft to the gangway. He grabbed a blaster pistol off a nearby weapon rack on the way. Carefully descending the gangway, Mat pocketed the pistol and grabbed hold of an rail, extending a hand towards Lan. The Warder pushed himself to his feet and recovered his sword. "Come on!" Mat yelled. Lan sheathed his sword and sprinted toward the interceptor, jumping up the gangway without any aid from Mat.

Amys was now engaged in a duel of the Force with Nakrin. The Sith shot lightning from her fingetips which Amys deflected with an invisible shield. Mat impulsively drew his blaster pistol and fired three shots and Nakrin. When she turned to deflect the bolts, Amys swept the ashandarei low, knocking the Sith Lord down, then knocked her out cold with a blow to the head.

"Amys!" Mat called as he pocketed the pistol again. "Let's go!"

The Wise One dashed over to the ship, threw the ashandarei into the cabin, then jumped. Mat grabbed her hand and hauled Amys aboard. They ducked inside the ship as the gangway began to raise. Mat raced to the control room and sat in the pilot's chair once again. The ship banked to port and began to ease its way out of the docking bay. It accelerated and climbed upwards once clear of the academy. Soon the cockpit window was filled with nothing but dark space and bright stars.

"Get us out of here, droid!" Mat exclaimed hurriedly.

"Away = Destination?" the astromech droid beeped.

"Coruscant!" It was the first planet that came to mind.

"Destination = Confirmed. Jump to lightspeed = Commencing!"

The stolen interceptor's hyperdrive engaged. As the stars turned to streaks of light, the ship blinked and vanished into hyperspace, leaving Korriban behind.

The dice stopped rolling.


	3. Chapter 3: The Council

The Republic transport ship _Endurance_ cruised through hyperspace, en route to Coruscant from Alderaan. Aboard the vessel were hundreds of refugees fleeing the Imperial onslaught. Also on board were four squads of Republic soldiers, under the command of Sergeant Den Himelstos, and three Jedi Knights, Satele Shan among them. It was Satele Shan who now sat around a table with Rand and Aviendha, accompanying the two outlanders in their quarters. During the course of the ship's passage to Coruscant, Satele had lectured them a great deal on the Force, its nature, and its proper use. Rand carefully took note of how the Force, as Satele knew it, differed from the One Power, as he understood it. To begin with, the Force was not divided into a male and female side; the Force that he could channel was the same that Satele or Aviendha could embrace. Furthermore, any Force wielder could detect another, regardless of their gender. Rand certainly found it awkward to sense Aviendha embracing the Source. Perhaps most importantly, there was no taint on the Force; no oil slick on the surface of pure water. But there was, Rand noticed, an important similarity. Both powers had two sides, but the Force's sides differed in _how_ it was wielded, not by _whom_. The Force had a 'light' side, used with serenity, and a 'dark' side, wielded with emotions. Jedi such as Satele wielded the light side, while the Sith often favored the dark. But at the end of their long discussion, Rand, Satele, and Aviendha all reached the same consensus: the Force and the One Power were the _same_.

Besides the Force, Satele also lectured them a great deal on galactic history. Fourteen years ago, the Sith Empire had returned from a milennia of exile, conquering the planet Korriban in their first attack. From there the Empire launched a huge offensive against the Republic. The two governments had been at war since. Satele and Jace had both been aboard a space station over Korriban when the Sith attacked, and were lucky to escape with their lives. Rand and Aviendha also shared stories of their adventures in the Westlands, and the events that led them to Alderaan.

"And when he emerged from Rhuidean," said Aviendha with a faint hint of fascination, "two dragons had wrapped their coils around his arms." Rand rolled back his sleeves, exposing the twin dragons. "That was when the Wise Ones knew that he was the _car'a'carn_ \- He Who Comes With The Dawn."

"Interesting," Satele said, studying the dragons. "And what is He Who Comes With The Dawn destined to do?"

"The prophecies claim that I am to defeat the Dark One," Rand added, "the evil being that threatens all of creation. All the world's nations will rally to my banner, and together we will fight in the Last Battle against the forces of the Shadow. But in doing so I will bring great suffering to the world."

"No war is won without cost, Rand," Satele assured him. "Look at what happened on Alderaan. We drove the Imperials off the planet at the cost of tens of thousands of Republic lives. Two Jedi Knights are among the dead as well."

"We took a great many _gai'shan_ that day too," Aviendha added proudly. Despite Satele's efforts, Aviendha didn't fully understand the difference between _gai'shan_ and prisoners of war.

"It's worse than just a costly battle, Mistress Shan. Some believe that I will destroy the world by saving it - that my actions against the Dark One will lead to another Breaking of the World. You remember what I told you about the Breaking."

"Yes, I remember. The world was destroyed when all the male Aes Sedai went insane and used the One Power to extremely destructive ends. Thus far, Rand, you have done us no harm, and I firmly believe that you will continue to do so."

Rand swallowed. "That's kind of you to say."

A beeping noise sounded from the overhead intercom speaker. "Satele," came Sergeant Himelstos' voice, "we're nearing Coruscant. ETA ten minutes. Best gather your gear and report to the shuttle bay." The intercom clicked off.

Satele stood up. "Best get ready, then," she muttered.

* * *

Five minutes later, Rand, Satele, and Aviendha were seated in a shuttle's main cabin. The three Force wielders sat in the foremost row, while behind them sat Den Himelstos and his platoon of Republic soldiers. The Sergeant and his troops were being transferred into a new unit, infantry squad 326, with Captain Jace Malcom as their commanding officer. Once the shuttle landed, he and Rand would be going their separate ways. Den had joked that Rand and Aviendha should join squad 326 as well, on account of him mistaking them for soldiers in the first place. Rand wished Sergeant Himelstos and his fellow troopers well, but doubted that he would ever see them again.

The shuttle vibrated as it took off, causing Rand to cling a little tighter to the brown leather pack on his lap. The pack contained only a change of clothes, a piece of bread, and a bottle of water, but it was all Rand possessed in this strange new realm, other than his sword, which was secured at his hip. Aviendha held a similar pack with similar contents, though Rand would bet that her pack contained more water and weapons than clothing, knowing the Aiel mindset. Satele carried only the clothes on her back, a small leather pouch, and her light sword - or 'lightsaber,' as the Jedi called them. When Rand asked why she carried so little, Satele reminded Rand that their journey from the ship to the surface would be short - there was no need to prepare a long journey, as Rand was accustomed to. Rand only nodded at her words.

As the shuttle cruised down to the surface, Rand looked out the window to his left, watching as the cold blackness of space gave way to the warm, bluish gases of atmosphere. He felt pressure on his right shoulder. It was Aviendha pressing against him, watching the sky with equal fascination. A fleet of Republic warships was in orbit around the planet, including one monstrous vessel that seemed to stretch close to a mile in length. The ship's elongated hull bristled with dozens of weapon emplacements. Rand stared open-mouthed at the cluster of vessels.

"See the big one?" Himelstos said behind Rand, indicating the enormous warship. "That's the _Star of Coruscant_. She's the first superdreadnaught in the Republic navy, and the new flagship of the Seventh Fleet."

"How many crew can she hold?" another soldier asked.

"Nine thousand personnel total," the Sergeant replied, "and that's not including transport craft and starfighters. Her blaster cannons can tear through anything in the Imperial armada."

"Glad she's on our side, then."

The orbiting Republic fleet gave way to the planet-covering city that was Coruscant. Steel buildings of every shape and size dotted the landscape, with not a tree or body of water in sight, as though the planet itself was artificial. Towering spires of metal and glass reached for the heavens while broad domes stretched their way across palaces and other structures. Airspeeders and spacecraft crisscrossed around the buildings through skylanes like fish around coral. In a single glance, Rand thought that he must have seen the art and architecture of a dozen different cultures reflected in the cityscape below. This was Coruscant. The center of the universe.

"It's beautiful," Aviendha whispered.

"Isn't it?" said Satele. "Galactic City has been the Republic's capital since its founding. It is also home to our destination: the Jedi Temple."

"And what will we find there?"

"Your new home, Aviendha, is what you'll find. You and Rand shall both study there under the tutelage of a Jedi Master. Masters are the senior, most experienced members of our order, and traditionally the practice of training new apprentices - Padawans - falls to them."

"Who decides which Master trains which Padawan?" Rand asked. "For that matter, who is going to teach us?"

Satele paused and looked out the window. "I do not know who your trainers will be," she said at last. "The Jedi Council shall decide. Understand that accepting new students as old as you and Aviendha is a rare practice among the Jedi, even during wartime. The Council will-"

A beeping noise sounded from Satele's leather pouch. The Jedi Knight opened the pouch and withdrew a disc-shaped object that fit neatly in the palm of her hand. She pressed a red button the device's size, and a blue three-dimensional image of a man in robes appeared, hovering above it. Satele focused on the image, which then began speaking.

"Knight Shan," the man's image said, "This is Master Din. What is your status?"

"I'm aboard a shuttle en route to the Temple. The two new apprentices from Tython are with me."

"Excellent. Once you've landed, bring them to the Council Chamber. We'll discuss the matter further then."

"Yes, Master."

Master Din's image blinked and vanished. Satele stowed the device and turned her attention back to Rand and Aviendha. "Did you hear that? You'll be going before the Council once we arrive at the Temple." She looked at Rand. "Remember the 'Amyrlin Seat' you told me about?" He nodded. "This is like having an audience with her."

The shuttle slowed to a stop, hovered for a moment, then lowered steadily downwards onto a landing platform. Rand felt the shuttle's fuselage vibrate as it settled on its landing gear. The entry hatch on the shuttle's stern opened, revealing a gangway. As the gangway lowered, Satele unfastened her seat belt, stood up, and secured her pouch to her belt. "We've arrived. Grab you gear and let's go." She began to make her way aft down the isle between the rows of seats. Rand and Aviendha both collected their belongings and followed her. The soldiers on board, Himelstos chief among them, bid them farewell and good luck. "Take care of yourselves," the Sergeant said as they passed, "and by the Gods, don't go into battle naked." Those words got a roar of laughter from the soldiers. The story of Aviendha's appearance on the battlefield was becoming legendary among their ranks.

Satele led Rand and Aviendha down onto an open shuttle pad. The Jedi Temple - an ornate, elegant structure of brick, metal and concrete standing close to one thousand feet tall - loomed ahead. Following in Satele's footsteps, the two outlanders passed through an entryway flanked by two heavy steel gates. The temple's interior, Rand noticed, matched its exterior, with vaulted ceilings, tall glass windows, and statues of renowned Jedi from the Order's history. Jedi of every age and species walked the corridors alone or in small groups. They passed an open door that lead into a dining hall, and another to a library. Looking around at the building and its inhabitants, it became clear to Rand that this was more than just a residence, but a school. An enormous academy. And he was its newest student, along with Aviendha.

At last Satele stopped in front of a closed door. "Leave your gear outside," she cautioned. Rand and Aviendha both unslung their packs and placed them on the floor against the wall. Rand moved to remove his sword but Satele stopped him. "Wear your blade if you wish, just keep it sheathed." Rand nodded and secured his weapon once more. Aviendha likewise continued to wear her belt knife (which was actually a combat knife gifted to her by Sergeant Himelstos as a gesture of good faith). Satele pressed a button on the door, which then slid open, revealing the Council Chamber. The chamber itself was a circular room with a tile floor and tall glass windows that offered a commanding view of the Coruscant skyline. twelve plush chairs were arranged in a circle around a central pedestal. The door through which Rand, Satele, and Aviendha entered was the only exit. Only six of the dozen chairs in the room were occupied. Seated in the chair facing the entrance was an alien Jedi Master with orange skin and a face concealed behind a breathing mask. Next to him was Master Din. The remaining four Jedi Masters, a mix of aliens and humans, were unknown to Rand, but the anxiety creeping in was familiar. He'd felt the same mix of emotions when going before the Amyrlin Seat. Hurriedly he entered Cat Crosses the Courtyard, allowing his muscles to relax. _I wish Perrin were here_ Rand thought. _He was always better with authority than I_.

"Welcome back, Knight Shan," said the alien Jedi. "I trust the campaign on Alderaan went well?"

"Thank you, Master Zym," Satele returned with a slight bow of her head. "It went well indeed."

Zym eyed Rand and Aviendha. "And these two must be the recruits you mentioned. Please, step forward." He motioned for them to approach. Rand and Aviendha advanced until they stood beside each other in front of the pedestal. "Welcome, young ones," Master Zym said warmly. "I am Zym, Grand Master of the Jedi Order, and the five Masters with us are members of the Jedi Council. We have all heard a great deal about you." He locked eyes with Rand. "You must be Rand Al'Thor, yes?" Rand nodded. "Ah. Please remind us, Rand - what is your title back on your homeworld?"

"The Dragon Reborn," Rand replied.

"He Who Comes With The Dawn," Aviendha cut in.

Master Zym's gaze shifted. "Ah, yes. Aviendha of the Taardad Aiel. You have quite a spirit, young lady, if even half of what Knight Satele has told us is true. And we trust that it is." He added that with a nod to Satele. "I sense your strong affinity with the Force. Since your appearance on Alderaan, have you been able to recreate the action that led you there in the first place?"

"No."

"Would you like to learn?"

"No. I _must_ learn."

 _Spoken like a true Aiel_ Rand thought.

Master Zym nodded approvingly. "We understand that you both defeated Sith in combat. A most impressive feat." He briefly eyed Rand's sword. "It is because of your skill in battle, your strength in the Force, and the curious circumstances that led you to Alderaan, that the Council has voted to accept you into the Order. From this moment on, you are now Padawans in the Jedi Order. Welcome."

"Thank you, Master," Rand said politely. "I humbly accept."

"As do I," Aviendha added, if more reluctantly than Rand.

"As is our custom," Zym continued, "each new Padawan trains under the tutelage of a Jedi Master. Rand Al'Thor, you have demonstrated great skill with combat and the Force. Therefore, Master Orgus Din has volunteered to be your teacher. Under his guidance, you shall become a Jedi Sentinel." Zym gestured to the human Jedi Master, who gave Rand a trusting wink. "Aviendha, your history as an apprentice Wise One - which Satele has informed us of - makes you an ideal candidate for a Jedi Consular. Master Roona shall be your mentor." A female Jedi with yellow-green skin and short ebony hair gave Aviendha a smile. "Do you have any questions for us?"

Rand swallowed, then spoke. "When does our training begin?" It seemed a foolish question to ask, but there it was.

"It begins right away, Padawan," Master Din answered promptly. "Once you've settled in to your new quarters, come find me at the eastern common room."

"Yes, Master. I will await you there."

"The same goes for you, Aviendha," Master Roona added.

"Any further questions?" Master Zym asked. Silence. "Very well. Padawans, Knight Shan, you are dismissed. Please escort our newest Padawans to their quarters, Satele. Masters, please remain behind. We have further matters to discuss."

With that, Rand and Aviendha followed Satele out of the chamber. The door hissed and closed behind them.

* * *

"I sense the strength within those two," Master Roona uttered once the Padawans had departed. "Such potential. They could easily become the most powerful Jedi that we've seen in many years."

"I agree with you on that, Lindrin," Master Din affirmed, "But there is something unusual about the way the Force flows through Rand Al'Thor. Chance itself seems to alter around him in ways both good and ill. Shortly after the shuttle he arrived in left, I sensed it crash into a nearby theater. Normally an event like that would cause dozens of deaths, but no one was even hurt, let alone killed."

Master Roona nodded. "Most curious," she muttered. "Still, I do believe we made the right choice by accepting him and Aviendha for training."

There was a murmur of agreement from the council members.

"Their progress must be monitored closely," Master Zym ordered. "Orgus, Lindrin, ensure that happens. We know that Padawans that progress too quickly through their training often turn to the dark side. Unfortunately, the galaxy is in a state of war, and we need to field as many Jedi as we can. Much of their training must take place outside the Temple, and even on the battlefield itself." Master Zym eyed Din and Roona in turn. "We cannot allow Aviendha or Rand Al'Thor to become Sith. Take care of them, Masters."

"We shall, Master," Din said confidently.

"This meeting is adjourned. Go in peace, and may the Force be with you all."


	4. Chapter 4: Sith and Shadow

Darth Marr made his way through the chilled corridors of the Sith Academy on Korriban, lost in his own thoughts. Just the night before, two fugitives had escaped from the planet in a Fury-class interceptor despite the efforts of Lord Nakrin and her apprentices. The escape occurred in the middle of the night, when security and Sith presence throughout the Academy was most lax, but at all hours personnel could be found wandering the property. According to Lord Nakrin, the Academy's corridors had been nearly empty - an exceptionally odd occurrence. Marr couldn't shake his gut feeling that the fugitives, no matter how insignificant, had been allowed to escape. The Dark Council needed to hear of this. Fortunately, Marr was already on his way to a Council meeting. Thinking of the discussion to come, Marr brushed the hilt of his lightsaber, as if to make sure it was still there, and continued on his way.

A high arched door slid open ahead of the Sith Lord, and he stepped into the Dark Council chamber. The chamber was a broad, rectangular room with six high-backed chairs on a dais along two of the walls. Behind each chair stood a monolithic statue of a robed Sith Lord, representing the unseen presence of the Emperor. Nine of those chairs were occupied by Council members, but of those present, only four were actually in the room. The remaining Lords in attendance had a blue holoimage of themselves seated in their chairs. Once Marr crossed the chamber's open center and took his seat, the Council meeting commenced.

"Welcome my Lords," Marr said to the assembled. The Sith Lord's voice was projected by a miniature PA system housed within his battle armor. "Let us begin with reports from each Sphere." Unlike the Jedi Council, the Dark Council was part of the Imperial government, second only to the Emperor himself. Each Sith Lord on the Council directed a Sphere of Influence - the twelve domains of power within the Empire. Marr himself was head of the Sphere of Defense of the Empire. "As you know, the Imperial home systems are under no immediate threat." Marr looked over to the holoimage of Darth Vengean, head of the Sphere of Military Offense. "What news of the war effort, Lord Vengean?"

The armored Sith Lord shook his head. "We've suffered a serious setback on Alderaan. Our ground forces met with great success at first, but the Republic Army was lying in wait. They launched simultaneous ambushes against our forces across the planet. Tens of thousands of our forces were killed, wounded, or captured. A Republic fleet arrived shortly afterwards. I'm afraid we had no choice but to retreat. As much as it humiliates me to say, Alderaan is lost to us."

"That is most unfortunate, Vengean," said the feminine voice of Darth Azamin, head of the Sphere of Military Strategy. The aging female Sith Lord smoothed her violet robe. "However, there is some good news. A survivor from the Alderaan campaign has returned to Korriban. He awaits an audience with us now."

"Is that so?" Vengean inquired. "Send him in, then."

Azamin pushed out with the Force, and the chamber entrance slid open. Marr half-expected a grizzled trooper, an Imperial officer, or even a Sith acolyte to come before the Council, but instead a young man wearing a plain black suit stepped through the doorway. He was a tall man, standing at least six and a half feet high, putting him of a height with Darth Vengean. His hair, worn short, was midnight black, standing in stark contrast to his milky skin and pale blue eyes. At first, Marr assumed that the man was a civilian, likely an Imperial sympathizer from one of Alderaan's noble families... until he sensed the Force within the stranger. So he _was_ an acolyte, then. Or would soon become one. Suspiciously, the hilt of a lightsaber was holstered at his right hip. Only those who survived the Sith Academy's rigorous teachings were permitted to carry such a weapon, marking the young man as Sith.

The stranger halted near the center of the chamber. "My Lords," he said in a baritone yet rather suave voice, "I am answering your summons."

"State your name," Marr demanded. Pleasantries could be dispensed with for the time being.

The stranger turned to face Marr. "Moridin, my Lord. As you may know, I am also a Lord of the Sith."

Vengean straightened in his chair. "Tell us what you witnessed on Alderaan, Lord Moridin."

"It began with a march through the forest." The young Sith Lord looked around at the Council as he spoke. "Our force was on its way to Castle Panteer. We were passing along the foot of a ridge near the edge of the treeline. It was there that the Republic Army ambushed us. Three force-wielders were among their number, but only one of them was a Jedi. The second was a Force-sensitive girl and the third was... something else entirely."

"What do you mean?" It was Azamin who asked.

"The Force swirled around him ways I've never seen. Chance itself seemed to alter around this man. Lord Ordrin engaged the man in single combat and was nearly victorious, but a Jedi interrupted their duel. Ordrin himself was killed by a blaster shot to the back, fired by this mysterious young man."

"Lord Ordrin was a skilled combatant," Vengean remembered. "Besting him would have been no small accomplishment. Perhaps it was blind luck."

"With the Force, there is no luck," Marr reminded Vengean. "Moridin, what else do you remember of this man?"

"During his duel with Ordrin, the young man referred to himself as the 'Dragon Reborn.' Given the odd way that the Force acts around him, I firmly believe that he is someone unique."

The holoimage of Darth Jadus' robed figure flickered just before the head of Imperial Intelligence spoke up. "This 'Dragon Reborn' is certainly worth investigating. I shall put our best agents to work on it immediately."

Unlike Jadus, Darth Marr was not nearly as convinced. "Moridin, when you last saw this 'Dragon Reborn,' what was he doing?"

Moridin smoothed his jacket before continuing. "When I last saw the Dragon Reborn, he and the Force-sensitive girl were with the Jedi Knight and two Republic soldiers. Likely he's on his way to Coruscant by now. After that sighting, I rounded up the surviving Imperials and marched them back the way we came. Before leaving, I also overheard his name: Rand Al'Thor."

 _Interesting_ , Marr thought. If Rand Al'Thor, with his unique connection to the Force, was recruited by the Jedi, then he could one day pose a serious threat to the Empire. Should Rand Al'Thor enter the war -as many Jedi across the galaxy were - dispatching him would be a top priority for both the Sith and the Imperial military.

"I can bring him to you." Moridin said after a brief silence. "If you will permit it, my Lords, I can attempt to recruit Rand Al'Thor to the Sith."

Marr looked at Jadus, then Azamin, then Vengean, and at the other assembled Council members. All nodded in quiet approval. "Very well. If you believe that you are capable of convincing this 'Dragon Reborn' to become Sith, then by all means, go ahead. You have the support of the Dark Council. Be sure to send us regular updates. Now, your audience is at an end. Please depart to carry out your mission."

"Right away, my Lord. And thank you." Moridin bowed, turned on his heels, and strolled out the door, which closed behind him.

* * *

When Moridin emerged into the corridor outside the Dark Council chamber, he found Lord Nakrin waiting for him. The female Sith pureblood wore dark leather boots, a long black skirt of medium weight cloth, and a sleeveless, hooded upper garment that bared her arms and midriff. An inviting smile occupied her lips, and two lightsaber hilts hung from her wide hips. In eyes of most, Nakrin was just another Sith Lord, albeit a physically attractive one. For the briefest second, Nakrin's true form - a buxom human female with fair skin and yellow hair - flickered through the illusion. "Well, Elan?"

"We have the Council's support, Kamarile. They wish to find the Dragon Reborn, and I intend to deliver him to them."

"With my help, of course," the disguised Graendal added.

Moridin gave her a disapproving look. "You? Who got six promising acolytes killed and let Matrim Cauthon escape from the Academy? Why?"

"Because I know where the gambler and his crew went." She inched closer to him, moving in a seductive manner. "And besides, do you truly want to brave the entire galaxy alone?" She wrapped him in a gentle embrace. Part of Graendal's cover story was that she and Lord Moridin were lovers. Lately she had been taking that story too seriously for Moridin's liking.

The male Sith Lord sighed, partly out of relief and partly of frustration. "Alright then." He removed himself from Graendal's embrace. "Now where is our dear friend Mierin?" Graendal shrugged. "Find her. And bring her to the shuttle dock. The three of us are leaving Korriban when the next transport lands. Lews Therin Telamon awaits."


	5. Chapter 5: Memories and Mayhem

Starfighters screamed overhead, lancing the ground with blaster bolts. Heavy artillery boomed in the distance. The ground shook with detonations. Trees toppled and ferns went flying through the air as exploding shells uprooted them. Panicked animals fled the treeline and burst onto the open battlefield. A row of trenches were dug in at the far end of a jungle clearing, the center of which was a no-man's land dotted with shell holes and mines. Armored vehicles stood amongst the trees, just out of sight of the enemy's tanks and howitzers. Republic soldiers down in the trenches and up in the vehicles readied their weapons, anxiously awaiting the call to advance. Down in the forward trench, Mat loaded his blaster rifle with a fresh power pack and checked the thermal detonators at his belt. Looking past the slick mud that spattered his red and yellow armor, Mat counted that all of his explosives were accounted for. Looking left and right, Mat took a head count of his squad members. Yatze, Dirk, Mekil, Fromaz... good. All were present. Even better, all were still alive. He sincerely hoped they would remain that way.

"Lieutenant!" Private Yatze bellowed over the cannon fire. The gray-skinned Rattataki man had a look of panic on his youthful face. "It's a mess out here, sir! What are we going to do? Just sit here and wait for death?"

"I'll tell you what's going to happen," Mat growled back, jabbing a finger at the frightened soldier. "We are going to stay here, and wait for the Jedi to arrive. Is that understood?" Yatze closed his mouth and nodded, still worried.

"Sir, we have incoming!" Corporarl Fromaz called, his voice full of alarm.

Mat peaked over the edge of the trench, taking care to keep his eyes low to the ground. Fromaz was right. Storming across the no-man's land was a squadron of eight Basilisk war droids. The piloted droids, with their powerful claws and muzzles that bristled with blaster barrels, the Basilisks resembled armored beasts from ancient warfare. Their pilots, seated in open cockpits atop the droids, brandished weapons and jeered with battle joy as their mounts charged across the open ground. A nearby blaster turret opened fire on the droids, only to end up being dispatched by a rocket launched from the lead droid. The lead Basilisk's pilot, a sniper rifle raised to his shoulder, fired a shot in Mat's direction. Mat ducked down and heard the bolt whistle overhead before burying itself into the dirt.

"Now we're in for it!" Yatze cried. He dropped his blaster rifle and began to whimper.

Mat crawled over to the frightened soldier, taking the young man's face in his hands. "Look at me, boy." He did. "You are a soldier of the Republic. Around us are men depending on each other to stay alive. Every one of us who quits the fight is leaving good people to die at our enemy's hands. Are you going to leave us behind?" Yatze shook his head. "Good man." Mat released Yatze and handed the Private his rifle, which he hefted with renewed purpose.

The whir of an engine sounded overhead. Mat looked up at the clear sky, half-expecting to see a squadron of bombers making an attack run. All he saw was a lone transport shuttle. Mat groaned in frustration. What good was a lousy transport against _war droids_? Predictably, the Basilisks started firing on the shuttle, but surprisingly, none of the shots struck home. Every bolt or rocket fired at the shuttle was deflected, as though by a shield made of air. Elation surged into Mat as he realized what the shuttle was carrying: Jedi.

The shuttle touched down no more than ten feet behind the trench. Downdraft from the shuttle's engines forced Mat to raise a hand to shelter his eyes. The shuttle's loading ramp dropped, and two dozen Jedi Knights emerged from it, igniting their lightsabers as they touched the ground. At their fore was a Jedi Knight clad in black robes and carrying two lightsabers - one blade colored blue, the other violet. A durasteel mask obscured his face, but not his identity. Every being in the Republic military knew this Jedi's name. It was a name that all respected and aspired to.

Revan.

"Stand with us, brothers and sisters," Revan called to the Republic forces. "It is time to face the Mandalorians." The masked Jedi then casually knocked aside a rocket with his left lightsaber.

For a fleeting moment, Revan locked eyes with Mat, and gave a nod. Mat turned back to his squad. "Our reinforcements are here!" he shouted with enthusiasm. "Revan is with them! Now let's go kill some Mandos. With me, boys!"

The Jedi Knights spread out and charged across the no man's land, with Revan leading the way. All along the Republic lines soldiers climbed out of the trenches and surged across the open ground. Republic vehicles emerged from the treeline and joined in the assault, firing projectiles over the heads of the charging infantry. Mat kept his squad close behind Revan, matching the renowned Jedi's pace. The lead Basilisk war droid fired a burst of blaster bolts in Revan's direction. The Jedi commander, still moving at a run, deflected the bolts with one lightsaber, and threw the other at the advancing droid's legs. The lightsaber severed the droid's left legs with ease, causing the machine to topple over and spill its pilot. Mat killed the pilot with a burst of shots from his own blaster, letting the fury of battle surge into him.

At last they reached the Mandalorian lines. A string of reinforced concrete walls, pillboxes, and weapon emplacements stood ahead of the Republic forces. Revan and three other Jedi joined their strength and unleashed a powerful Force wave, blasting a hole in the nearest defense wall. Bits of concrete rained down on Republic and Mandalorian forces alike. As the Jedi stormed through the breach, Mat followed with his own squad, leading them into the nearest pillbox. Four Mandalorian fighters awaited them inside. Their leader, a human male in red armor, raised a blaster pistol and fired. Mat rolled to the left and got down on one knee and returned fire, striking the Mandalorian in the chest. He fell to the ground heavily. Mat's squad joined in behind him, shooting at the Mandalorians. Mat saw Fromaz go down, but all the Mandalorians hit the pillbox's floor as well, all of them dead. "Good work, squad," he said approvingly, still down on one knee.

"For Clan Vizla!" someone roared. Mat felt a knife slip between the plates of his armor. Struggling, he turned to face his attacker. His eyes met those of a red-haired, hazel-eyed human female no older than Nynaeve. A look of triumph adorned the young woman's face. She withdrew her blade and moved to stab again. A blaster fired. Mat jolted awake.

* * *

 _Blood and bloody ashes_! Mat thought as he sat up in the captain's bed aboard the commandeered interceptor - the _Gambler's Folly_ , Mat had renamed it. _What was that_? Thanks to the Finn, Mat had inherited a great number of memories from the Mandalorian Wars, but this was the first time that he had ever dreamed about them. Inside, Mat knew that the dream (probably) was not real, only this one had been... different. More vivid. The emotion that he'd experienced at Revan's arrival and at joining the battle had all felt so pure, so _believable_. It took effort to remind himself that it was all ancient history. What stuck with him most was the face of the Mandalorian woman who had stabbed him. Or rather, who had stabbed the man who, at some point in his life, made the mistake of contacting the Finn. Never had his dreams been so serious - or, for that matter, painful - since Bala'zamon had invaded them after he'd left Emond's Field with Rand, Perrin, Egwene, Lan and Moiraine. Where was Lan, anyway? It was his turn to stand watch in the control room.

Still groggy from sleep, Mat swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid on his breeches. His white shirt and green jacket followed. As Mat was pulling on his boots, the intercom sounded overhead.

"Mat," said the Warder's voice. "I need you here in the control room. This 'droid' contraption is making an awful lot of noise. I don't understand any of it."

Mat shook his head. Of _course_ Lan wouldn't understand a droid's speech. At times that man could make a nerf herder seem educated. But Mat could hardly blame him. Without his borrowed memories, Mat would be just as mystified as Lan was now. "I'll be right over," he said, then stood up, donned his wide-brimmed hat, and strolled out of the cabin.

He found Lan in the control room, seated in the captain's chair, just aft of the galaxy map console. G5-K3 was beside the Warder, beeping and twittering and rocking his chassis like a dog anticipating food. Lan, clearly annoyed by the machine, was looking straight ahead at the galaxy map, trying to ignore G5's racket. Lan looked over his right shoulder at Mat as the gambler entered. "Thank you for coming," Lan said plainly. "This machine won't keep quiet." There was a subtle hint of agitation in the Warder's tone. "Do you have any idea what he's trying to say?"

The droid rolled itself up to Mat, still beeping and twittering away. "Fuel level = low. Coruscant = out of reach. Destination = change!"

"That sounds like an easy problem to fix," Mat reassured the droid. G5 stopped twittering and let out an electronic sigh of relief. "Now, where else can we go?" Mat asked, partly to himself.

The ship suddenly dropped out of hyperspace. Mat was nearly thrown from his feet by the sudden stop. "What the..." he wondered aloud. Regaining his balance, Mat looked down at Lan. "Did you do that?"

Lan shook his head. "I didn't touch the controls."

"Drop from hyperspace = not G5's fault," the droid beeped.

Bewildered, Mat look out the control room window. The ship had come to a stop inside of an asteroid field. Fortunately the floating space rocks - some the size of a city - were relatively far apart. Only a large ship would experience any degree of trouble navigating around them. The field itself appeared empty of any life forms... until Mat noticed something odd about one of the asteroids on the _Gambler's_ port bow. The asteroid, big as the Palace of Camelyn, had an unusually shaped tip that resembled the head of a woodcutter's axe. As his own ship drew closer, Mat realized that the axe head-shaped tip was in fact not part of the asteroid but was the bow of another ship. Her hull was painted a drab gray, marking it as a small warship, possibly a corvette. _What are they doing out here_? Mat wondered. _For that matter, who under the Light are they_?

A ringing noise sounded on the control panel in front of Lan. "What's that?" the Warder asked.

Mat strode over to the galaxy map. "Someone's trying to contact us," he said, and pushed a red button on the panel. The map blinked and vanished, and the holoimage of a Twil'ek male appeared in its place. The Twil'ek, a wicked scar slashing across his face, wore rudimentary combat armor and had a heavy blaster pistol holstered at his side. A badge displaying a sword crossed with a blaster rifle was clearly visible on his chest. Was that a mark of authority? If so, then this mysterious vessel was potentially part of a navy.

" _Gambler's Folly_ , this is the captain of the _Rylothi Pride_ ," said the Twil'ek in a matter-of-fact tone. " _Gambler's Folly_ , do you read?" Mat then remembered that he had modified the ship's identify friend-foe system to broadcast the interceptor's new name, rather than its old Imperial designation. _Why didn't I think to change that later rather than sooner? Light!_ Not pleased with himself, Mat responded to the incoming call.

" _Rylothi Pride_ , this is _Gambler's Folly_ ," said Mat to the strange captain. Lan, still seated in the captain's chair, remained silent, as did G5. "What is it that you need?"

"We are having trouble with our hyperdrive. Do you happen to have an astromech droid aboard your vessel? Or perhaps a skilled engineer?"

Mat, feeling skepticism seep into his mind, remained silent. The ruby-hilted dagger from Shadar Logoth had left behind some lingering effects, not the least of which was wariness of strangers. The _Rylothi Pride_ 's call for assistance sounded genuine enough, but something about it wasn't quite right... "Why didn't you send your message on a distress frequency? A situation like yours warrants an emergency broadcast. And shouldn't a bloody warship like yours have mechanics of its own? If not, then your flaming navy needs to re-evaluate its entire fleet. Blood and ashes, take care of your ships, man!" Mat then started to ponder who else might operate armed vessels other than a navy. Merchants were a possibility, albeit a slim one. _Rylothi Pride_ could be owned by the Hutt Cartel, but Mat promptly dismissed that theory. He thought it unlikely that the Cartel would name a ship after the homeworld of a species they frequently enslaved. That left only smugglers - unlikely, given the ship's size - or worst of all...

Mat cut off the transmission, causing the Twil'ek officer's holoimage to vanish. "Lan, get ready for a fight." The Warder stood up and reached for his sword but Mat stopped him. "Not with that. This is going to be a skirmish between ships, not soldiers. Now get into the co-pilot's seat.

The Warder obeyed with a low growl. "Just what is the problem, farmer?" Lan asked forcefully while fastening his seat belt.

"Problem? Lan, that's a bloody _pirate_ ship! This is a disaster."

"Is it possible we can escape instead of risking our lives needlessly?"

"Not a bad thought. G5, can you get us to lightspeed?"

"Hyperdrive = needs time to recharge," the droid whirred.

 _Light!_ "How long?" Mat demanded.

"Recharge time = three minutes."

Three minutes was closer to three years when in the heat of battle. Blood and ashes! "Get going on it!" Mat barked. "But first, power up the ship's weapons."

G5 connected himself to a panel on the aft bulkhead. "Blasters + missles = Online!" he twittered a second later.

"Good work, G5. It's time to toss the dice!"

The pirate corvette _Rylothi Pride_ emerged from its hiding place behind the city-sized asteroid. Mat could clearly see the one hundred meter-long warship's starboard side, which did indeed resemble a woodcutter's axe, with its tall, vertical bow and elongated, narrow stern, which widened again further aft, where the engines sat. One dual-barreled blaster turret was visible on the ship's topside, two more on the verticals (one forward, one aft), and one turret on the underside. A pair of missile pods were mounted on the corvette's bow. Overall, the _Rylothi Pride_ was more heavily armed than the _Gambler's Folly_ , but Mat's interceptor had one key advantage: speed.

"Let's see what this lass can do," he said to no one, then pushed a hand on the accelerator. The _Folly_ surged forward, spurned on by the power of her engines. Mat yelped with excitement, banking the ship to starboard and turning a half-circle around an asteroid. The pirate vessel opened fire as the interceptor gained speed. Red blaster bolts flashed by the hull, slamming into asteroids and missing the smaller ship entirely. One bolt struck home, causing the _Folly_ 's energy shield to flare up. Mat climbed his vessel high above the pirate ship, then circled around to her stern. _Here goes nothing_ , he thought before commencing his first attack run. Mat opened fire with his ship's four blaster cannons while the enemy returned fire using their vessel's topside blaster turret. A blue, electronic field appeared as the interceptor's green blaster bolts struck the pirate ship's energy shield. _Blast_ , thought Mat. _This will take longer than it usually does_.

He swung the _Folly_ hard to port, enemy blaster bolts chasing the small ship as it maneuvered. Again Mat climbed the ship upwards, then made a sharp downwards turn to starboard... only to find himself bow-to-bow with the pirate ship. In a moment of panic, Mat launched a pair missiles at the corvette. The pirates, still blazing away with their blaster turrets, fired a missile of their own a second later. Mat put his ship into a dive, dodging the missile, which harmlessly struck an asteroid and exploded. The pirate ship turned to port, hoping to evade the incoming rockets... but to no avail. The first missile struck the corvette's bridge, causing no damage but straining the energy shield to its limit; the second slammed into the starboard side just aft of the control room, knocking the shield down completely.

"Enemy's shields = down!" G5 beeped excitedly.

"Outstanding!" Mat cheered. "We're almost out of this. Light, this is just like fighting the Republic Navy over Aries III." Wait... when was he at Aries III? Burn him, it was those dead men's memories again!

Mat leveled the ship out and sent her into a wide, arcing turn, circling around to the corvette's stern. Taking careful aim at the pirate ship's dual engines, Mat opened fire, sending a dozen green blaster bolts crashing into them. Flames flared up from the engines as the blaster bolts struck their target. A half-dozen escape pods began jettisoning from the corvette's hull as the fires spread throughout the doomed ship. Just before Mat turned his own craft away, the _Rylothi Pride_ exploded in a spectacular display of orange flames and tumbling debris.

"Yes!" Mat exclaimed, raising a fist over his head.

"That was... interesting," Lan said in a much softer tone. "It appears that we are safe for the moment." An alarm started blaring in the control room. "Or perhaps not."

"Missile = incoming!" G5 whirred as he spun his disc-shaped head in panic.

Something powerful struck the interceptor's hull, causing the ship to shake violently, like dice about to get thrown. "Mother's milk in cup!" Mat swore out loud, then swerved the ship behind a large asteroid, using the rock's enormous bulk for cover. "Where did _that_ come from?!"

"It must have been fired at the stern," Lan said, looking around at the space beyond, "else we would have spotted our assailants. Whoever they are."

"Must be another pirate ship." Mat and Lan sat in silence for several minutes, watching as another ship cruised into view. Like the destroyed _Rylothi Pride_ , this vessel also sported a bow shaped like an axe head, but her hull was broad where the _Pride_ 's had been slim. She carried three blaster turrets on each side of her hull, along with an additional engine. A missile turret was visible on her topside. Her hull was painted the same drab gray that had adorned the pirate corvette. An insignia showing a sword crossed with a blaster rifle was painted boldly on her midship section. That insignia alone was all Mat needed to determine that she and her crew were foes. Just another crew of cutthroats. And he was about to wreck their day.

"Here we bloody go again," Mat muttered as he launched a salvo of three missiles at the pirate ship. All three rockets struck their target. Predictably, the pirate vessel's energy shield absorbed the impacts. Accelerating the ship forward again, Mat fired the _Folly_ 's blaster cannons, hitting the pirate craft amidships but failing to inflict any damage. The pirate ship's blaster turrets rotated, took aim, and returned fire as Mat sent his ship careening over the enemy's hull. Behind the interceptor, the pirate ship's missile turret launched two rockets that proceeded to chase the smaller vessel. One missile went wild and struck an asteroid, but the other slammed into the _Folly_ 's stern. The bow pitched forward with the impact.

"Shield = down!" G5 exclaimed with alarm.

 _Wonderful_ , thought Mat as he swung the ship around for another attack run. The gambler knew that without shields, they stood little chance against the larger ship. Even a small chance of success was enough for Matrim Cauthon, though. Did Lan need to know that they were about to plunge headlong into a suicidal charge? Did Amys? No, Mat decided. Lan had been preparing to enter a hopeless battle his entire life, and Amys would probably consider this to be an honorable death, knowing the Aiel. Although... what would Moiraine say if Mat got her Warder killed? What if he never found Rand or Aviendha? Stop! To Shayol Gul with Aes Sedai and their hidden schemes. Diving from above, Mat straightened out the ship's course and centered the sights on the pirate ship's bridge. Taking a deep breath, he opened fire with the blaster cannons. The pirates returned fire by launching three more missiles, which hurtled straight at the _Gambler's Folly_. Images of Mat's youth began to flash before him.

Then the dice began rolling in his head.

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, three altogether _different_ missiles came into view and shot down those heading for the _Gambler's Folly_! Another ship - a pair of ships, rather - appeared to starboard. Both were small freighters of Corellian make, and both began strafing the pirate ship, firing on it with their top-mounted blaster turrets. Elated by the unexpected arrival of assistance, Mat gleefully joined in the assault, spraying the pirate ship's topside with blaster bolts and destroying the missile turret. The pirate vessel's energy shields finally quit, allowing the three smaller ships to cripple her. Mat lined up his vessel for a final attack run and fired a burst of blaster bolts at the pirate ship's bridge, smashing the windows and venting her command crew into space. With the bridge inaccessible, the pirates no longer had control over their ship. But that wasn't enough for the Corellian frieghters, who unloaded their blasters at the ship's engines, causing them to explode. The pirate ship died a death identical to that of the _Rylothi Pride_ , only this time no escape pods burst from the hull. No survivors.

Mat brought his ship to a stop and exhaled deeply. He hadn't realized that he'd been holding a breath. "Whew, glad that's over," he said as the dice in his head rolled slower.

"Indeed," Lan muttered.

A familiar beeping noise sounded from the main cabin. G5 perked up. "Holocall = incoming. Location = main holoterminal."

Mat unfastened his seatbelt. "I wonder who it," he uttered while standing up. He then made his way into main cabin, with Lan and G5 in pursuit.

He entered the main cabin to find Amys already standing before the main holoterminal, which stood in the space's center. The Aiel Wise One appeared bedraggled despite being fully clothed in her brown dress. Where had she been during the entire battle? Mat thoguht it best not to ask, otherwise he might end up on the receiving end of the Wise One's sharp tongue. While his companions stood around the terminal, Mat walked up and pushed the red 'call' button.

Two life-sized holoimages appeared over the terminal. On the left was a bearded human male wearing a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat, and on the right stood a short-haired Mirialan female wearing a shirt, vest, pants, and boots. Both had blaster pistols holstered at their sides.

"Ah," said the man with slight nod, "so you're not Imperials after all. When we saw you engaging those Sunder Star pirates, we were inclined to think otherwise."

"Your IFF gave you away," the Mirialan added. "Smart call. The _Gambler's Folly_ , is it? Your ship's got a cool name."

"Are we going to get introduced?" Mat asked. "I'm not ungrateful, but..."

"Right!" the Mirialan woman continued. "I'm Hylo Visz, captain of the _Crimson Fleece._ "

"And my name's Nico Okarr." The human gave a mock salute. "I skipper the _Redshifter_."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Mat said cordially. "My name's Abel and these are my shipmates, Jain and Keri. We are spacers, like you."

"Are you smugglers?" Hlyo asked.

"As a matter of fact, we are," Mat said before either Lan or Amys could intervene. "We were making a run to Korriban when the Imps impounded our ship. We had to steal one of their own ships to escape."

"You stole a ship from the Empire?" Nico remarked. "That's quite impressive."

"It was terrifying as well." That much wasn't a lie. Facing down a Sith Lord could not be described differently.

Hylo Visz cracked a smile. "We could use a crew with your skill. Meet up with us on Nar Shaddaa the next time you're there. You have our holo frequencies. Contact us when you arrive."

"We shall," said Mat. "Thank you."

"Fly safe," Hylo said just before her holoimage disappeared. After bidding them good luck, Nico ended his transmission as well. The dice in Mat's head rolled to a stop.

Mat eyed Lan and Amys with a triumphant look. "Welcome aboard the _Gambler's Folly_ ," he said cheekily, "the galaxy's newest smuggling vessel."


	6. Chapter 6: Lessons

The training foil hummed past Rand's left as he sidestepped to avoid it. Before his opponent, Padawan Surro, could recover, Rand struck a blow to the young woman's ribs with his own foil. As Surro swung her blade again, Rand lowered himself into a defensive position, holding his weapon over his head and parallel to the training room's floor. Just as he predicted, Surro's foil struck his almost dead-center, clanging with the impact. Rand moved to execute River Undercuts The Bank.

"Hold!" Master Din barked from a nearby bench. He had been actively observing the duel between the two Padawans. Rand and Surro both lowered their weapons and faced the Jedi Master, who was now standing. Master Din took a few paces closer. "That was nicely done, but still not perfect. Both of you made errors. Rand, what do you think your mistake was?"

Rand looked down and shook his head in mild embarrassment. "I was about to use a sword form instead of a lightsaber one," he said softly, wiping sweat away from his forehead. Rand hadn't noticed how much effort eh was exerting.

"Correct. Some of the sword combat techniques - like that one, River Undercuts the Bank - that you learned back on your homeworld are useless when wielding a lightsaber. You must remember that."

 _I DO remember_! Rand thought. "I shall remember, Master," he said aloud.

"Good man." Master Din turned his eyes to Surro. "What was your error, Surro?"

The copper-skinned, curly-haired human girl was silent for a moment. "I... didn't best my opponent?" she said, uncertainly.

"No, Padawan," Master Din said plainly. "That was no mistake, though it was unfortunate. Your mistake is that you released your hold on the Force late in the duel."

"Oops," Surro muttered with shame, looking down.

"It is indeed an 'oops.' A Jedi is always armed with two weapons: a lightsaber, and the Force. Which is the more important?"

"The Force," Surro replied confidently. She met Master Din's gaze at those words.

"Very good. Now, I want both of you to channel the Force. Go right ahead."

Rand opened his mind, letting the Force flow through him, filling his soul with life, amplifying his senses. The foil in his hand no longer felt so heavy, and the whiskers on Master Din's chin seemed sharper and more visible than before. A sweet smell like flowers entered his nostrils. Was Surro wearing a faint perfume?

Master Din returned to his seat on the bench. "Begin again, Padawans."

Rand and Surro both faced each other, entered combat stances, and raised their foils. Rand struck first, swinging his weapon in a powerful downward arc. Surro blocked the attack, outstretched her left hand, and suddenly Rand felt an invisible hammer strike his middle, knocking him onto his back. He grunted upon impact with the ground. Frustration bubbled up in Rand as he hurried back to his feet. This was the ninth time in a row that Surro had defeated him. Was there no end to the girl's victory streak? If he was to gain an advantage, perhaps it was time to think outside the box.

Surro rushed forward, foil raised and ready to strike. _No_! Rand thought angrily as the young woman charged. _You will NOT best me again_! Rand outstretched his hand, expecting to push out with the Force and knock Surro down. Instead, a stream of electricity shot from his fingertips. Surro screamed and fell to the ground writhing in agony as the electric bolts struck her.

"Rand, stop!" Master Din was on his feet, lightsaber hilt in hand. "End what you're doing _now_!"

Horrified by his own action, Rand released his hold on the Force, causing the electric stream to vanish. Surro, still on the ground, let out a muddled noise that seemed both a sigh and a whimper. Master Din rushed to her side, stowing his lightsaber hilt, then held his hands over Surro's body, channeling the Force to heal her injuries. Surro was on her feet again in a moment. Despite Master Din's healing, the Padawan's expression suggested that she was on the edge of sobbing. Rand noticed that Surro wouldn't meet his eyes. He hadn't meant to frighten her so. _Oh, Light_.

"You are dismissed, Surro," Master Din said in a compassionate tone. "Return to your quarters for some food and rest."

The curly-haired girl sniffled and then, wiping away tears, made her way out of the training room.

Master Din cast a stern gaze at Rand. "Do you know what you just did, Rand?" he asked in a serious tone. "What technique that was?"

"I... don't know." Rand replied. "Though I'm sure it was nothing good."

"The technique you just used is called Force Lightning, Padawan." Master Din's voice became more serene as he continued. "It is an ability used only with the dark side of the Force. When you let your frustration take control, you touched the dark side, allowing your otherwise harmless attack to turn into a deadly one. Remember the first line of Jedi Code? Say it for me."

"There is no emotion, there is peace," Rand recited from memory. His first lesson as a Jedi Padawan had focused on the Code and its interpretation.

"Very good. Live by those words, and you need not fear touching the dark side."

"I understand, Master." _I will steel myself_.

"Good man. Now, I think that's enough sparing for one day. Come with me. There is one more task we must accomplish before the day is out."

Master Din turned on his heals and strode towards the training room's exit. Rand followed close behind his teacher, easily matching the Jedi Master's pace. Outside the hallways were still occupied. It was late in the day, and most of the Jedi that Orgus and Rand passed were walking in the direction of the dining halls. Rand caught a whiff of freshly baked bread as they passed a door leading to one of the kitchens, causing his stomach to give a low rumble.

"I know you're hungry," Master Din said without looking back. "We'll eat soon, but this can not wait."

"What is it we're about to do?" asked Rand.

"You'll see."

Master Din took a sudden left turn into an open doorway, leading Rand into a room that greatly resembled a workshop. Waist-high workbenches, racks stocked with tools, and containers filled with raw materials lined the chamber's walls. Several Jedi sat or stood at the various workstations, crafting in silence. The only noise in the room came from the power tools. Master Din halted near the center of the workshop. Rand stopped beside him, crossing his arms, waiting.

"Welcome to the Lightsaber Forge," Master Din said, just loud enough to be heard. Rand was taller than Master Din, and briefly considered leaning over to hear him better, but the Jedi Master continued. "This is where Jedi build and maintain their lightsabers. Over the years, many Padawans such as yourself have crafted their first weapons here in this very room."

"I guess that's why you brought me here," Rand remarked, looking at Orgus.

Master Din gave an approving nod. "You catch on fast. Rand Al'Thor, despite your hiccups in the training room today, I believe that you are ready to construct your first lightsaber."

A smile appeared on Rand's lips. "I am pleased to hear that, Master."

"As well you should be. You've made incredible progress since your arrival on Coruscant. Now go ahead and gather your materials. A Jedi must craft his first weapon alone. Only come to me if you need assistance."

"I'll get it done, Master Din." Rand walked off in the direction of the containers housing raw materials. Each container was labeled according to what specific part(s) or material was stored within. Rand went over a mental checklist of parts as he sorted through the containers. _Emitter, power cell, lens, igniter, crystal..._ he thought, remembering Master Din's lecture on lightsaber mechanics from yesterday. After gathering the needed parts and depositing them at the workstation, Rand returned the containers, pondering what material to use for his lightsaber's hilt. Deciding on a bronze-like material with the strength of steel, he returned to the workstation and set to work on his new weapon. After an hour's worth of labor, Rand held a brand new lightsaber hilt in his heron-branded hands. The hilt itself, copper in color, was one foot long and wrapped tightly in brown leather, allowing for a firm grip. A knob near the emitter allowed for adjusting the blade's length, while a button opposite the knob ignited the blade. The mark of the heron was engraved on the weapon's hilt.

Tired, hungry, but also quite proud of his accomplishment, Rand presented his new weapon to Master Din, who had quietly watched Rand work. "Outstanding work, Rand," he said with a faint smile. "This a fine tool, but it's not yet complete."

Rand frowned. "What's the matter with it?"

"Your lightsaber already contains two crystals for resonating the blade, but you still need a third crystal to produce both its color, and its unique properties. Each Jedi has a crystal that is attuned to the Force embedded within their lightsaber. To attune the crystal, the Jedi must meditate on it until the crystal is ready." Master Din withdrew something from a pocket on his robe and handed it to Rand. It was a plain, transparent crystal no larger than his thumbnail. "This crystal responds to you, Rand. The night after you and Aviendha arrived at the Temple, I took a visit down to the Crystal Depository in the lower levels. Out of the thousands of crystals stored within that vault, only this one responded to your presence in the Force. And that, my friend, is most unusual."

Rand rolled the crystal in his hands, eyeing it. "I imagine you'll expect me to meditate on this crystal? When should I begin?"

"Go and get something to eat, then return to your quarters and start your meditation. You'll know when the crystal is attuned and ready."

* * *

After enjoying a meal of roast beef and vegetables in the dining hall, Rand returned to his room with the Padawan's quarters. The room itself was modest in size, with a pair of beds against one wall, a table and two chairs opposite the beds, and two dressers on the far wall. A small window above the dressers overlooked the Coruscanti skyline. Rand's roommate, a Togruta boy named Arin, was fast asleep on the bed nearest the window. Arin had the sheets pulled up over his face; only the tips of his head-tails poked out from underneath the quilt. Due to the overhead light being shut off, Rand almost didn't notice the boxy, squat mouse droid sitting in the middle of the floor. The droid beeped a noise and bolted for the open door as Rand entered, causing him to mutter a curse as it came within an inch of striking his foot. The droid raced out the door and disappeared around a corner. Quietly closing the door behind him, Rand removed his robe and draped it over the back of his desk chair. He walked over to the far wall and set the hilt of his new lightsaber down beside his sword, which rested atop his own dresser. Sitting cross-legged on his own bed, Rand withdrew the crystal from his pocket and set it in his lap. He reflected on how Master Din had described the crystal, about it's ability to "respond" to the Force. Rand was reminded of how _angreal_ performed a similar function, allowing a channeler to hold more of the One Power than they could otherwise. Did this minuscule crystal do just that - allow a Jedi to channel a greater amount of the Force?

"Master Din's instructed me to meditate on this crystal," Rand whispered to himself. "He claims that I'll know when it is "attuned" to me. What under the Light did he mean?" Even as he despaired, Rand could sense a... presence... within the crystal, as if the rock itself was holding the Force. Intrigued by his discovery, Rand sought the void, emptying all of his emotions into the imaginary flame, fueling it until the fire roared. The Forced surged into Rand, filling him with joy and bliss. Suppressing the feelings that rose up along with channeling, Rand focused the Force on the crystal, which began to hum; faintly at first, then louder as more of the Force entered it. The humming, Rand noticed keenly, was not in echoing in his ears, but in his mind. Rand seized more of the Force, and the humming grew to a dull roar, coming within a hair's width of breaking his concentration. At last Rand held as much of the Force as he believed possible for him. The crystal's humming completely drowned out his senses until Rand was certain that the Force would overpower him. At that moment, the humming ceased, and the Force flowed out of Rand, leaving him panting with exhaustion.

A knock sounded at the door. "Come in," he said absently. The door opened with a hiss, and Aviendha entered. That didn't surprise Rand. She and her roommate occupied the room next his own. What did surprise him - though probably shouldn't have - was her lack of clothing. _Does this woman have_ any _shame_? Rand wondered. "Did you need to a borrow a robe, Aviendha?" Rand asked humorously.

The naked Aielwoman was not amused. "I sensed you channeling the Force," she said, ignoring the joke. "Is there a problem?"

"No there isn't," Rand replied, picking the crystal up from his lap. "I was just following Master Din's instructions."

Aviendha raised her eyebrows. "What did he tell you to do?"

"He told to meditate on this crystal..." Rand showed the crystal to Aviendha, and his jaw dropped in surprise. The crystal, once colorless, glowed with a brilliant golden light. Ripples of Force energy radiated outward from its smooth, flawless surface. What had once been a dead, silent rock was now alive with the power of the Force pulsing through it. "...and then put this in my lightsaber once it was "ready." Can you feel the power contained with this tiny crystal?"

Aviendha nodded. "Yes. It is as though you hold a star in your hand."

"It must be ready for my lightsaber." Rand uncrossed his legs and stood up from the bed, walking over to his dresser, moving quietly to avoid disturbing Arin. Aviendha followed him into the room, sliding the door shut behind her. As Aviendha stood beside him, Rand set down the crystal, picked up his lightsaber, and began to slowly unwrap the leather from around the hilt. He then opened the lightsaber's power chamber and gently placed the glowing crystal inside. With the crystal in place, Rand closed the power chamber, then replaced the leather wrapping. Gripping the lightsaber as though it were a priceless treasure, Rand's right thumb found the ignition switch. "Hope for the best," he whispered and pushed the button.

A blade of superheated plasma shot up from the hilt. Rand flinched at the sudden noise made by the weapon, but Aviendha stood firm. The blade, about thirty-two inches in length, glowed with a radiant gold light, matching the power crystal's color. It was a majestic instrument that the Dragon Reborn now held in his heron-marked hands. Rand couldn't help being in awe of his own weapon. "You were right," he said as he turned to look at Aviendha. Her pale skin was illuminated by the lightsaber's gentle glow, giving her a haunting appearance, albeit a strangely attractive one. "It does feel like holding a star; perhaps even a sliver of the sun itself."

Meeting Rand's eyes with a soft smile, Aviendha wrapped her right arm around his own left. "It is a fitting weapon," she said approvingly, "for He Who Comes With the Dawn."

* * *

Out in the corridors, the mouse droid continued its flight, racing along the tiled floors and weaving around passerby. Zipping through an open sliding door leading into a security station, the wheeled machine halted at the feet of a Temple Security guard. The lone guard made a brief check of the surrounding room and corridor. Certain that no unwelcome eyes were watching, the guard picked up the droid and placed it on a nearby desk. After carefully removing the droid's outer casing on its back, the guard withdrew a hidden holodisc. Plugging the disc into the station's holoterminal caused the holoimage of Rand Al'Thor to appear over it.

The Temple Security guard put on a triumphant smile. "Found you."


	7. Chapter 7: Shadowspawn

Lightning streaked across the storm-wracked sky of the jungle world Dromund Kaas. The planet, strong in the dark side of the force, was home to Kaas City, the capital of the Sith Empire. Down on the city's metal streets, soldiers and citizens alike carried on about their business, unmindful of the weather. Storms were a frequent occurrence in Kaas City; another would not bother the Imperial citizens any more than the previous one. Kaas City itself, with its sturdy metallic skyscrapers and towering spires, was built to withstand the worst weather that the surrounding planet could throw at it. A fifty-foot durasteel wall surrounded the city, holding the jungle and its many carnivorous predators at bay. Few on Dromund Kaas traveled overland on foot; those that did were either heavily armed or foolish. The jungle's numerous predators, while a hindrance to most, provided opportunity for others. Mandalorians and Sith Lords regularly hunted for deadly game hiding within the dense foliage, and the Imperial Army regularly drilled its recruits in wilderness survival techniques there. Still others used the jungle for more nefarious purposes...

Unnatural shrieks and guttural roars echoed through the corridors of AlChem Laboratories, located inside a larger complex of buildings in Hub 6, the unofficial "Science District," as it was known to the locals. Like their fellows out on the streets, the scientists and researchers that worked in AlChem carried on with their tasks, not mindful of the noise. The howls and moans had been occurring for weeks now, and the staff had grown accustomed to the ruckus. In fact, many recognized the noise as a healthy sign, as it indicated that their test subjects were still alive. Aginor, Sith Lord and Chief Scientist of AlChem Laboratories, was especially pleased. Having arrived on Dromund Kaas only a month prior, Aginor had already proven himself a master of the ancient, vile, depraved practice of Sith alchemy - using the dark side of the Force to create unnatural creatures.

Standing in his personal office overlooking the facility's holding cells, arms crossed behind his back, Aginor peered out the window, eyeing his latest creations. The Sith's own image - that of a plain, unassuming, middle-aged man - reflected in the glass back at him. Occupying the cells below were hideous creatures made from the genetic material of humans, animals, aliens, and the Force. One creature had the body of an Ithorian, the feet of a Vine Cat, and the head of a Twil'ek, while another was shaped like a man but wore the dense fur coat of a Wampa. 'Trollocs,' Aginor and his staff called them. During the War of Power, Aginor had created similar creatures - Shadowspawn - for fighting against the forces of the Light, but the One Power's capabilities were vastly inferior to those of the Force. Shadowspawn created using Sith alchemy were stronger, faster, and more intelligent, if not much brighter than those from the War of Power. The cell nearest Aginor held a creature that was more... human than the rest. The creature had the figure of an adult male human with dark blue skin and hollow eye sockets, over which it wore a blindfold, painted midnight black. Looking up out its cell's glass ceiling, the creature met Aginor's stare, and the Sith Lord felt a small shiver run down his spine. Made from uniting the genetic material of humans, Miraluka, and Chiss, the creature was one of Aginor's finest creations: a Myrddraal.

A ringing noise sounded from the holoterminal. Uncrossing his arms, Aginor adjusted the black coat that fell past his knees and crossed the floor to the terminal. The familiar holoimage of Lord Moridin appeared over the terminal.

"Good morning, my Lord Elan," Aginor said cordially.

Moridin stood straighter, arms folded behind his back. "Ishar," he said plainly. "What is the status of your... creations?"

Aginor peered over his shoulder at the office window. A Trolloc howled loudly in the holding cells beyond, then cut off as a Myrddraal stared it down. "They are magnificent, my Lord," Aginor boasted, returning his gaze to Moridin. "I have one fist of Trollocs ready for battle, with Myrddraal to lead them. More are being created in test tubes as we speak. Some of the females have already given birth to healthy young."

Moridin nodded approvingly. "Splendid. The plan is coming together nicely, my old friend."

"What plan do you mean, my Lord?"

Moridin raised his index finger to his lips, silently ordering Aginor to be silent. "We shall discuss it later. For now, I believe you are expecting an audience with two of the Dark Council. Until we speak again, Ishar." The holoimage of Moridin flickered and vanished. _The Dark Council_? Aginor thought. _I don't remember scheduling_ -

The door leading out to the hallway slid open, and the tall, armored form of Darth Vengean stepped through without knocking or announcing himself. Darth Marr entered close behind, followed by a Grand Moff that Aginor did not recognize.

Aginor stepped forward and gave a polite bow. "My Lords. Grand Moff. What can I do for you?"

"We have been informed of your creations, Aginor." It was Darth Marr who spoke. "Lord Vengean, myself, and Grand Moff Wyld wish to assess their capabilities before we consider deploying them into combat against the Republic." Aginor looked directly at Marr's metal faceplate as he spoke. The Sith Lord's synthetic armor, reddish and in color, loosely resembled human tissue, as though he were wearing a defeated enemy's muscle. A hood concealed the back of Marr's head. While all Sith were intimidating to some degree, Marr's armored body, coupled with his barritone voice and concealed face, gave him an exceptionally serious appearance.

"As you wish, my Lord," Aginor replied. "Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me, I shall lead you to the holding chambers."

Aginor led the two Sith Lords out of the office and down the hallway. Marr and Vengean walked beside him, while Grand Moff Wyld followed close behind. They paused only briefly to ride an elevator down to the lower level, but otherwise their passage was uneventful. Civilian researchers and technicians stepped aside and bowed as the Sith passed while military personnel paused and saluted. Only the Grand Moff bothered to return the salutes; Aginor and the other two Sith paid no attention to rabble around them. The four men soon passed through a sturdy durasteel bulkhead, beyond which stood the holding cells packed tight with Shadowspawn.

Aginor, Vengean, Marr and Wyld halted beside a sealed cell with a transparent door, inside of which sat four Trollocs. The creatures snarled at the four men in their coarse, guttural language. One Trolloc, with the lizard head of a Trandoshan, pointed a scaled finger at Aginor and stuck out its divided tongue in what was an apparently disrespectful gesture. All four Trollocs were clad in some manner of crude armor, ranging from chain mail fastened over the chest to nearly complete sets of full plate armor like those worn by mercenaries and other vagrants. Together, the Trollocs were a nightmare brought to life.

"My Lords, meet the Trollocs," Aginor said proudly.

"By Force," Marr remarked. "It looks as though you have given birth to demons." Marr found more the Trollocs' appearance disturbing. The Force surrounding the beasts felt... wrong. Strong in the dark side, certainly, but warped in some fashion, as though the Force itself disagreed with their existence. Marr touched a hand to his lightsaber's hilt.

"They certainly are intimidating," Vengean added, "but how do they fair in combat?"

"I intend to show you, my Lord," said Aginor. "A demonstration is in order. Jailer!"

A young security guard in grey armor appeared from around a corner by the entryway. "Yes, my Lord?" he asked.

Aginor pointed at the cell. "Gather some men and escort these Trollocs to the training room. Bring one of the Myrddraal as well."

"Right away, my Lord." The Jailer gave a bow and darted back around the corner. He returned a short time later with six additional guards trailing behind him, all of whom carried electrostaffs. The six guards made their way over to the Trollocs' holding cell while the three Sith and one Grand Moff stepped back out of the way. The Jailer himself walked alone to a cell further down the corridor. One of the six additional guards unlocked the cell housing the Trollocs. "You lot! Out!" he barked as the door slid open with a hiss. "Into the hallway and be quick about it."

The Trollocs dutifully obeyed, looking around and still muttering in their native tongue under their breath. One Trolloc with the face of a Mon Calmari looked over his shoulder at the three Sith. "Little Sith aren't so tough," he growled in Basic. "Lur could kill you all and feast on your flesh!" A security guard prodded Lur with his electrostaff, delivering a powerful jolt that caused the Trolloc to yelp in surprise.

"You will show respect to your Sith masters!" the guard demanded harshly. "Else you'll end up as fodder for the beasts that live outside these walls."

Vengean shook his head disapprovingly. "I thought you would have better control over your pets, Aginor."

"I am not the one who controls them directly," Aginor reassured the towering Sith Lord. "That responsibility falls to the Myrddraal."

Just then, the Trollocs fell silent, formed a single file line, and looked straight ahead up the corridor. The Jailer had returned with the Myrddraal walking beside him. The eyeless creature cast its gaze over the Trollocs, and the three Sith felt fear rise within the Shadowspawn. Never once did the Myrddraal's black cloak ruffle with its wearer's movement. "Trollocs of the Ni'Drak fist," said the Myrddraal in a calm yet frightening tone, "Our Master has given us a task. It is ours to obey. Now, let us proceed."

The Trollocs, led by the Myrddraal, escorted by the guards, and trailed by Aginor and his colleagues, marched out of the detention area and into an expansive training room deeper inside the facility. The room housed an obstacle course, a firing range, and a ring for practicing melee combat, as well as over a dozen racks housing various different weapons.

Stepping up beside the Trollocs, the Myrddraal quietly issued orders. One Trolloc broke from the group and began to run the obstacle course, while two other strode up the firing range and selected blaster rifles from a nearby weapon rack. The remaining Trolloc picked up a sword and shield and entered the practice circle with the Myrddraal, who now carried a double-edged vibrosword. The two Shadowspawn started sparring as the Sith looked on. Blaster fire sounded as the Trollocs at the firing range commenced their target practice.

"Most impressive, Aginor," said Vengean as he watched the Trolloc and Myrddraal duel.

"These beasts are worthy of the Imperial Military," Grand Moff Wyld added, "provided their fury is directed at the Republic, of course."

"I am inclined to agree," Marr said grudgingly. "However, these creatures are still... unnatural. They are a product of dangerous alchemical practices. Under no circumstances will Trollocs or Myrddraal be utilized by the Imperial Defense Fleets."

"Scared of the monsters, Marr?" Vengean teased. In a more serious tone he added. "Very well. They shall be used in offensive role only. Continue your work, Aginor. Build us an army to terrorize the Republic."

"It shall be done," Aginor said with a bow. "Now if you will please excuse me, I must return to my duties. "The guards shall escort you to the door. Good day, my Lords."

Marr and Vengean turned and departed from the room, escorted by one of the guards. Grand Moff Wyld, who had remained behind, put a hand on Aginor's shoulder. "Praise be the Great Lord of the Dark," he whispered into Aginor's ear. "And let the Lord of Chaos rule."

Aginor looked at the handsome, hook-nosed Grand Moff, and recognized him for who he actually was - a fellow Chosen. "Praise be Great Lord," he agreed. "How do you fair, Barid? Is this galaxy to your liking?"

"It is good enough for now," said Demandred, "But when the Great Lord casts his shadow across the stars, the galaxy shall be ours to rule."

Aginor returned his attention to the duel just in time to see the Myrddraal knock the Trolloc to the floor.


	8. Chapter 8: The Smuggler's Moon

Nar Shaddaa was a loud and chaotic moon covered in skyscrapers in various states of decay and repair. Although the Hutt Cartel held dominion over Hutta's largest moon, they did not control how the city was developed or utilized, leading to a city with industrial districts below (and sometimes above) residential areas. Spaceports of many varieties dotted the buildings, all with any number of ships both great and small arriving or departing. Despite Nar Shaddaa's widespread urban blight, some areas of the city were devoted exclusively to gambling, boozing, prostitution, and all manner of high entertainment. The Hutt Cartel possessed vast wealth, and it was in the entertainment centers that their coin was flaunted before the general public. It was in just such a location - known to all as 'The Promenade' - that Mat Cauthon, Amys, and Lan Mandragoran now walked.

"This is unwise," Amys remarked from Mat's left. The Aiel Wise One was clad in an unassuming brown dress with leather shoes and belt, from which hung a sheathed knife. "That machine is not to be trusted with the ship."

Mat, shifting his ashanderi, put a hand on Amys' shoulder. "You needn't worry, Wise One. G5 saved our bloody lives back when we fled the Sith Academy, not to mention the skirmish against those filthy pirates. He's had plenty of chances to betray us, but hasn't. I'd bet my left eye that the ship will still be in the hangar when we return."

Amys shrugged off Mat's hand. "Words alone will not convince me of the droid's worth," she said grudgingly.

Lan cleared his throat. "I must agree with the Wise One on this, farmer," he said, walking beside Mat. "If G5 does attempt to leave..."

Mat looked up at the Warder. "Lan, please, do _not_ worry. Even if G5 does betray us - and burn me if he does - I have contacts who can help us. Remember Captains Okarr and Visz, who helped us against the pirates? I arranged to meet them here, on the Promenade."

The Warder sighed and shook his head. Mat sensed the older man's disapproval, but unfortunately there was little else he could do to improve their situation. What little money they had found aboard the _Gambler's Folly_ had been spent paying for overpriced docking space, and for hiring a painter to remove the Imperial markings on the ship's hull. Their only remaining currency was now tucked away in Mat's pockets. Fortunately, his _taver'en_ nature gave Mat an overwhelming edge when it came to games of chance. Just a few tosses of the dice or folding of the cards - preferably the dice - and their losses would end up recompensed in no time at all.

The trio continued to stroll across the promenade, passing through the area's expansive marketplace. Merchants, artisans, and craftsmen hawked their wares from various stalls and shops that lined the footpath, calling out in over a dozen different languages, all of which Mat could put a name to. The smells of cooked foodstuffs wafted over from nearby cantinas, causing Mat's stomach to growl hungrily. The walkways were crowded with beings of every race and species, from Twil'eks to Zabrak to Mon Calamari. A leathery, gastropodous Hutt with wide yellow eyes and stubby arms slithered down the walkway, accompanied by a several well-armed guards. A jeweled, golden circlet sat upon the Hutt's broad forehead. People and aliens alike made way for the Hutt as he passed through the crowd, parting like water being pushed aside by a ship's hull. The Hutt held the front of his body straight and erect as he slithered, paying the crowd no attention whatsoever. Hutts, Mat remembered, acted more aloof than any noble back on his own homeworld, and that in itself was no small accomplishment.

After close to an hour's time spent walking through the Promenade, Mat spied the location that he had been keeping an eye out for: the Glorious Jewel Casino and Cantina. An illuminated sign displaying a diamond marked the casino's entrance. Beneath the sign stood a handsome human male wearing a clean suit, eyeing patrons as they entered and departed. During his last holocall with Okarr and Visz, the two smugglers had arranged to meet with him there. Captain Okarr claimed that the Glorious Jewel was his favorite hangout on the entire moon, although Visz claimed that she couldn't imagine why. _Had she been sarcastic_? Mat wondered. _This place seems respectable. Certainly not one of the hells this moon is notorious for._ After all, this was the Promenade - the Hutt Cartel's primary showpiece to the rest of the galactic community. Any businesses operating here needed to be presentable in order for the Cartel to permit them to operate.

Mat led Amys and Lan over to the Glorious Jewel's entrance, nodding at the doorman as they approached. "No funny stuff inside the Casino," said the suited doorman, eyeing their weapons, particularly Lan's sword and Mat's ashanderi. "Keep your killing tools holstered." Mat tossed the doorman a coin and told him not to worry.

The Glorious Jewel itself was an inviting place, with bright, elaborate decor and finely dressed staff. Patrons milled about the numerous slot machines and gambling tables, while serving men and women offered them refreshments. A band played soft music on a low stage at the room's far end, while a bar stood near the room's center, around which patrons were clustered. To Mat, the Golden Jewel seemed as though an inn was given the decor and uniforms of a palace.

"Such excess," Amys said with disgust. "Must so many wetlanders engage in such useless acts?" Games of chance were not widely played amongst the Aiel.

"Maybe you'd like it back on the ship?" Mat asked mischievously. "Alone. With G5." He half-expected the Wise One to slap him across the face. To his mild surprise, Amys did not lash out.

"Where are these contacts of yours, farmer?" It was Lan who posed the question.

Mat did not answer, but began walking forward slowly, scanning the faces of the patrons as he moved. He spotted several Mirialan, but none were Captain Visz, nor did he recognize any of the humans as Captain Okarr. Where could they be? Mat halted and began to reach for the holocommunicatior in his pocket...

"Hey Abel!" a familiar voice called. Mat looked over his right shoulder, and saw Captain Visz waving at him. She was seated at a table across from a man wearing a knee-length brown coat that could only be Captain Nico Okarr. Mat returned the wave and made his way over to the spacers' table, Amys and Lan following close behind. Mat took a seat at the table, positioning himself across from Nico and beside Hylo. Amys sat down apart from the three scoundrels, while Lan stood nearby, hand on his sword's hilt, eyeing the casino's patrons and staff with a cold stare.

"Welcome to the Glorious Jewel, Abel," Nico said warmly. "It's the finest casino that you'll find on this cesspit of a moon."

"With honeyed words like that," Hylo joked after sipping her drink, "You could make a few credits doing public relations for the cartel."

"Well perhaps I am doing just that," Nico returned the jest. The smuggler then shifted his attention to Mat. "Now, what can Captain Visz and I do to help you?"

Mat rested his ashanderi against the table, folding his hands out in front of him. "As I told you before, the bloody Sith captured us on Korriban. We managed to escape, but not before they had "confiscated" nearly all of our possessions and credits. Flaming thievery is what it really is. In short, we need more money, and a quick way of getting a fair amount of it."

Hylo rubbed her chin as she thought. "Hmm. There are some pretty lucrative smuggling contracts available from the Hutts..."

"There is also a fighting tournament going on," said an oddly familiar voice to Mat's right.

Mat looked up at the speaker... and nearly fell out of his chair in surprise. Standing over him was a young woman - no older than Nynaeve - clad in combat armor painted in shades of blue, yellow, and grey. A sturdy blaster rifle was slung over her right shoulder, and a helmet hung from her left hip. Her skin, pale as beach sand, seemed to reflect the light, while her blazing red hair fell down past her shoulders. She looked down at him with striking green eyes. Mat instantly recognized her as the Mandalorian girl from his dream aboard the _Gambler's Folly_. "Blood and bloody ashes!"

Lan turned and partially drew his sword, like a wolf about to attack. "Identify yourself," the Warder demanded gruffly.

The Mandalorian threw up her hands in a mock surrender. "Easy there, tough guy. I just wanted to talk."

"It's okay, Lan," Mat said. "Let her speak." Lan pushed his sword back into its scabbard, but did not take his eyes off the armored woman.

The young Mandalorian lowered her hands and looked Mat in the eye. "My name is Shae, of the Mandalorian Clan Vizla. I noticed your weaponry, and your friend, here" - she gestured toward Lan - "seems like a warrior of great skill. Based on your conversation, I thought you might be interested in earning the credits you need by competing in the tournament."

"Foolish wetlanders," Amys spat, "killing for spectacle and gambling."

Shae shot Amys a stare that could have shattered glass. "Sputter all you want, crone, but I fight to test myself, not to please any crowd."

Amys returned the stare and began to reach for her belt knife. The medallion around Mat's neck turned cold as the Wise One embraced the One Power. Hylo and Nico both put hands on their blaster pistols, clearly expecting a fight to break out. Mat stood up. "Everyone, put away your weapons!" he exclaimed. Save the fighting for when it's actually necessary. Light!" To his mild surprise, everyone did just as Mat commanded. He then looked back at Shae "What do you know about this tournament?" Mat asked of her as he sat down again.

Shae dragged over a chair and sat down at the head of the table. "Well, the tournament itself is being held in the Arena District, near the old Ahgad residences. Zobra the Hutt is the host. He loves these kinds of events, hosts them often. His chief Lieutenant, a human called Janin, is the official coordinator. It begins tomorrow morning. Interested?"

Unsure, Mat looked first at Amys, then at Lan. The Wise One shook her head, while the Warder nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"Alright, Mistress Vizla," Mat said with a wink, "we're in."

An approving smile appeared on Shae's lips. "See you there."


	9. Chapter 9: Mysteries of the Force

Aviendha frowned at datapad resting in her lap. She was in the Jedi Temple's grand library, researching the gateway phenomenon that led her and Rand to Alderaan. The cavernous library housed within the Jedi Temple was among the largest collections of knowledge in the known galaxy, containing countless works by Jedi past and present. If information regarding the mysterious gateways could be located anywhere, it would most likely be found here. Master Roona had insisted that Aviendha spend her spare hours researching gateways. After all, she had managed to open one before.

 _Wetlanders and their books_ , Aviendha thought grudgingly. _Why not pass knowledge down through spoken words as Aiel do_? _Light_! She pressed a square red button on the datapad's left side, powering it down. She stood up and strolled over to a nearby shelf, returning the pad to its respective place. She was wearing the standard light tunic, pants, and boots often worn by Padawans. While awkward at first, the Wise One apprentice had quickly adapted to her new garments. In a sense, they reminded her of wearing a _cadin'sor_.

Extending her index finger, Aviendha browsed through the datapads stacked on the shelves, scanning the name of every author and subject printed on their side. She had just replaced a pad by "Murgok" about the greater mysteries of the Force. His writings had turned out being no more than idle speculation, useless even by wetlander standards. Before that was a datapad by a Master Jin discussing the use of the Force in unarmed combat. She took that pad off the shelf and slid it into her pocket. While not what she was looking for, such knowledge could prove useful later. Master Roona would certainly approve, as would any Wise One.

Her eyes settled on one particular datapad, furthest to the right on the self, partially separated from the others: Passages from Nowhere, by Master Brunil Hanika. Curious, Aviendha removed the datapad from the shelf and returned to the cushions where she had been seated. Aviendha had not yet grown used to sitting in a chair. Among the Aiel, chairs were used exclusively by Clan Chiefs, and then only under specific circumstances. The Jedi Padawan sat cross-legged on the cushions and powered on the screen, scrolling through the table of contents until one particular heading - Openings - caught her eyes. Immediately she selected that chapter, and began reading.

 _The Force is a curious power. It can allow us to shoot lightning from our fingertips, or launch a boulder into the air. But could it also allow us to travel instantly across great distances? During my last visit visit to the planet Ossus, I was venturing through a mountain valley when a mysterious silver line appeared, hovering about two meters off the ground. After a moment, the line extended into a mirror reflection not of the landscape around me, but of the forest floor of Kashyyyk's great forest, the Shadowlands. A big-eyed tach stared back at me before bounding away. Curious, I reached out and touched the reflection. My hand passed straight through it. In one of my less brilliant maneuvers, I stepped through the reflection and into the Shadowlands. A katarn pounced at me from behind a mossy rock after I did so. Before igniting my lightsaber I jumped back through the reflection. The katarn tried to follow, but as the beast's head passed through, the reflection contracted and vanished, leaving a severed head at my feet. It then occurred to me that this reflection was a passage of sorts. A gateway, if you will. Since then, I have studied a researched this phenomena, with the hopes of one day opening one myself. My findings have been recorded in my personal holocron._

The chapter ended with no further explanation, but a smile flashed across Aviendha's youthful face. She had found what she was looking for. _Master Roona will want to see this_ , she thought as she stood up and exited the library, the datapad still clutched in her hand.

* * *

Aviendha found Master Lindrin Roona meditating on the bed in her private quarters, a short distance from the Council Chamber. "Master!" she exclaimed excitedly, "I have found what you sent me to find."

Her concentration broken, Master Roona uncrossed her legs and stood up from her bed, adjusting her robes as she did so. "Yes Padawan?" she asked in a motherly voice. "What have you brought?" Aviendha opened the old datapad to the chapter about gateways and then handed it to Roona. Taking it in her hands, the Mirialan Jedi studied the chapter, nodding as she read. "Yes," she murmured after a short while. Roona handed the datapad back to Aviendha. "This is indeed what we have been looking for. Master Hanika's holocron is still among our archives. Come with me, Aviendha. We shall see for ourselves what Master Hanika learned." The Jedi Master turned and left the room, with Aviendha following close at heals. Out of pure habit, Aviendha walked as if poised to attack, though Roona encouraged her to walk in a less threatening manner.

Master Roona led Aviendha back through the temple's broad corridors. They passed statues and bust of ancient Jedi Masters, tapestries depicting numerous events in galactic history, and personnel. Most were ordinary staff maintaining the building, while others were security guards, and the rest were Jedi. One security guard - a female human with pale skin and short black hair - gave Aviendha a prying glance before continuing on her way. Aviendha looked suspiciously at the woman over her shoulder. What had she wanted? The Aiel maiden made a note to keep watch for that particular guard. Roona and her Padawan passed a meditation chamber, inside of which sat several Jedi Padawans accompanied by their Masters. Aviendha spotted a mess of red hair, and recognized Rand, seated cross-legged on a cushion, with Master Din beside him. Hurrying after her own Master, Aviendha decided that she would return to this chamber later, once her task with Master Roona was finished.

Aviendha followed the Mirialan into the library. Instead of walking towards the shelves, however, Lindrin turned and walked in the direction of a locked door. After Lindrin punched in a code on an adjacent keypad, the door slid open. The two Jedi entered, which was filled with square stone shelves, on which were neatly stacked palm-sized, crystalline polyhedrons. Each had a name and a year printed below it.

"These are holocrons, Padawan," Master Roona said, gesturing towards the shelves. "Each one was created by a Jedi to house his or her accumulated knowledge. As such, we can learn what the holocron's maker learned long after they have become one with the Force." After a moment, she reached for the holocron with Master Hanika's name printed below it. As the two Jedi watched, the holocron powered on, and the blue holoimage of a male Rodian Jedi appeared over it.

"I am Brunil Hanika, Jedi Master," the holoimage said in Basic. "One solar year ago, I encountered a mysterious portal that led me from Ossus to Kashyyyk in the span of heartbeat. Lightyears' worth of distance covered in a single stride. I decided to called these portals 'gateways' due to their function. In my studies, I have determined that gateways are indeed connected to the Force. Any wielder of the Force can utilize them." Hanika went on to demonstrate the Force technique needed to open a gateway. Sure enough, a line appeared in the air beside Hanika, and widened into a gateway. "To open a gateway, one must know the destination, otherwise you end up somewhere else entirely. It is possible to affect the gateway's size as well. Most alarmingly, gateways can also be used as weapons. If one has a gateway open and close rapidly, then propel it forward, it will cleanly slice through anything in front of it. Take heed, my fellow Jedi. Use this knowledge wisely." The holoimage flickered and vanished as the holocron powered down.

"Can you replicate that technique, Aviendha?" Master Roona asked.

"I can, Master," Aviendha replied as she embraced the Force. Carefully she mimicked Hanika's technique. A silver line the length of her shoulders appeared before her, then opened into a gateway the size of her torso. The red rocks and dunes of the Three-Fold Land were visible beyond.

"Remarkable," Roona said in awe.

"Yes," Aviendha agreed. "It is remarkable. Shall we go through it?"


	10. Chapter 10: Contact

The sun rose over Arafel as the wind carried an autumn chill across the open fields. Situated far from the main road lead to Shol Arbela, tucked behind a copse of towering evergreen trees, was a lone cabin. Made from stout timbers, warmed by a central hearth, and roofed with golden thatch, the cabin was no different from the countless such buildings that dotted the landscape. What made this cabin stand out was its occupant: a woman, living by herself. In the Borderlands, living alone was unheard of, especially when raids by Shadowspawn were a serious threat. A wise farmer would want to have plenty of persons on hand in case the Trollocs should come venturing south. But somehow this woman managed to endure her life of isolation.

The mysterious woman, known as Mistress Ann to the locals, stood in her shift before a mirror, tying her long ashen hair into a neat bun, which she wore atop her head. Dark eyes stared back at her, eyeing her pale skin and handsome, smooth face. Satisfied, she slid a golden band onto her left ring finger, which was shaped like a serpent eating its own tail. She rarely wore the great serpent ring in public these days. Once she was called Cadsuane Melaidhrin, an Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah. As far as the rest of the world knew, Cadsuane was retired from the order, and her sisters likely believed her dead by now. That suited her just fine.

She strode over to the wardrobe, selecting a dark green dress with skirts divided for riding. With a practiced hand she pulled the dress over her head and secured the strings on the bosom. The dress bared a small amount of cleavage, which didn't bother Cadsuane. Showing bosom had its uses, especially when dealing with men. Returning to the mirror, she selected a number of hair ornaments from her jewelry box and secured them to her bun individually, arranging them in a circle. Unknown to most, each ornament was an _angreal_ or _ter'angreal._ Each ornament performed a specific function with the One Power. They had served Cadsuane well over the years, helping to get her out of many tight spots. Just then, one ornament - a golden key - began to glow with a faint yellow light. Cadsuane turned around cautiously. A silver line appeared in the air, then opened into a gateway. A muddy path leading through a tropical rain forest was on the other side. No sunlight shined through the gateway - the rainforest, no matter its location, was cloaked in darkness.

 _Oh, Light_ , the Aes Sedai thought. _So much for a trip to market. It's time for me to come out of retirement_. She pulled on a pair of knee-high riding boots and fastened the laces tightly. Before departing, she lifted up a floorboard, revealing a hidden compartment, inside of which was a small wooden chest. Inside was a metal rod wrapped tightly in black leather. At first glance, it appeared to be an ordinary sword hilt, but Cadsuane knew better. She had crafted it herself, after all. Holding the hilt out in front of her, Cadsuane pressed a small button. A green blade of superheated plasma shot up from the weapon. Cadsuane smiled with satisfaction and extinguished the blade. She tucked the lightsaber hilt into her belt. After standing back up and gathering herself, Ann then stepped though the gateway.

Immediately her boots sank into the mud. One step forward dirtied the hem of her dress. Cadsuane did not worry about that. Dresses were frivolous things, easily repaired or replaced. So were boots, for that matter. Only her hair ornaments and lightsaber were indispensable. If Cadsuane needed to travel nude except for her jewelry and weapon, she would. Creator knows that she had endured worse scenarios in her many years of life.

Ann continued slogging her way through the mud, carefully placing one foot ahead of the other. The ground grew harder as she pressed deeper into the foliage. More than once she stumbled over a root or was poked by a protruding branch. She merely sniffed, smoothed her skirts, and carried on. Soon the jungle foliage gave way to ancient ruins. Most had collapsed, and all were partially concealed by vines and other growth. Cadsuane steadied herself against a fallen obelisk as she caught her breath. In the faint light, she was able to discern writing carved into the stone. Alarmingly, the script was that of the ancient Sith. What had the Sith built here? And why? She continued reading the script.

 _Enter stranger, but take heed_ , she read silently. _Fear itself lies within these walls._ _Test your resolve if you are strong, for the weak shall be crushed beneath the heal of nightmares._

"Fear itself?" Cadsuane muttered quietly. "Phaw! These Sith always did think highly of themselves."

Lightning flashed in the overcast sky above, followed swiftly by booming claps of thunder. Rain would soon follow, Cadsuane knew. She began to look around at the ruins and trees for shelter. Multiple blaster shots sounded in the distance, accompanied by explosions. A battle? That warranted investigation. Gripping her lightsaber tightly, Cadsuane ventured back into the forest, following the sounds of combat.

The noise led her into a wide clearing, at the distant edge of which were the ruins of an ancient Sith temple. Opposite the temple, atop a shallow hill, was a lone transport shuttle. A flash of lightning revealed Sith markings painted on the shuttle's drab gray hull. Dug in behind boulders and fallen trees between the shuttle and the temple was a squad of Republic troopers. There were eight soldiers total in the squad, strung out in a staggered line, each one firing their weapon from behind cover. The soldier nearest Cadsuane - a hulking man carrying a repeating blaster cannon - turned from behind a broken tree trunk, unleashed a flurry of green blaster bolts, then took cover as the enemy returned fire. Another trooper lobbed a thermal detonator, which exploded in a flash of orange. Guttural screams pierced the air as... _something_... caught fire.

Lightning flashed again, joined by thunder, and Cadsuane saw that the hostiles attacking the Republic troopers were _not_ Imperial soldiers, but Trollocs. Hundreds of Trollocs. A horde. They were different from the Trollocs back home, though certainly no less dangerous, and possibly more so. Most of the Trollocs carried scythe-like vibroswords or axes or polearms but some were equipped with blasters. Several hefted grenade launchers. One hulking Trolloc - the size of a Wampa with a Wookie's head - shouldered a multi-barrel rocket launcher. A blue-skinned Myrddraal walked amongst the Trollocs, jet black vibrosword drawn and ready. The Fade's gaunt, blinded face looked in Ann's direction, only for a fleeting moment, but it was enough. A troop of a dozen Trollocs broke from the main horde and charged in Cadsuane's direction.

The aging Aes Sedai sniffed. _Here we go again_ , she thought as she drew her lightsaber and ignited the blade. Cadsuane opened herself and the Force poured into her like a waterfall. The Trollocs were upon her seconds later.

"Jedi!" The lead Trolloc growled from its hawk-like beak then thrust his spear at Cadsuane's midriff, only to squawk in surprise as the lightsaber's wicked blade severed the spear's haft and then was buried in his chest. He fell face down into the mud.

Maintaining a serene calmness, Cadsuane entered a combat stance and readied her weapon. The blade of her lightsaber cleaved effortlessly through metal, wood, and flesh as she flowed from one form to another. Trollocs screamed and died as the superheated plasma did its ugly work.

A wolf-muzzled Trolloc kept his distance and raised a blaster rifle, leveling it at Cadsuane's chest. "Narg _smart_!" he jeered before firing a single bolt. "Narg stayed back from lightsaber!" He fired again. Cadsuane shifted her blade into the path of the bolts. One she knocked into the air, and the second she deflected back at the shooter. Narg's moment of triumph was cut short when his own blaster shot filled his open mouth.

When the last Trolloc fell, Cadsuane rushed to join the Republic troops, making a beeline for the helmetless soldier carrying a heavy grenade launcher. The soldier, his face scarred as if by shrapnel, crouched behind a wide boulder, and Cadsuane knelt beside him. He met her gaze, and jumped with surprise before spotting the lightsaber. "I don't know who you are, Jedi," the soldier shouted over the blaster fire, "but I'm glad you're here. Captain Jace Malcom, Republic Special Forces. With me is Havoc Squad."

Cadsuane nodded. "I'm Master Cadsuane Merlaidhrin of the Jedi Order," she said with a voice amplified by the Force. "What's the situation, Captain?"

Malcom pointed towards the ruined temple. "We were sent to destroy a dangerous artifact inside these ruins. Keep it from falling into Sith hands." He motioned at the Imperial shuttle. "We spotted this shuttle and reasoned that an Imperial team was already on the surface. Before we could plant a demo charge, these... _monsters_ ambushed us. Poured out of the temple like ants from underground. Now we're pinned down."

A rocket streaked through the air, hurtling straight at the trapped soldiers. Cadsuane pushed out with the Force and struck the rocket's underside. It spun wildly in the air before landing amidst the Trollocs, where it detonated.

"You are in quite a bind, Captain," Cadsuane agreed, "but the situation is not hopeless. First we need to defeat these monsters. They're called Shadowspawn."

From the corner of her eye, the Aes Sedai spotted a Republic soldier perched atop the shuttle, an elongated blaster rifle held at the ready. A sharpshooter. "Have your sniper concentrate on the Fades," she barked at Malcolm.

"At the what?" Malcolm asked, confused.

Cadsuane sniffed. "Phaw! On the ones that look humanoid and carry black swords. Have the rest of your troops take out the Trollocs, the grotesque foot soldiers. Shoot at the ones with blasters. I will take out those with melee weapons. Understand?"

Malcolm nodded and radioed Cadsuane's orders to the rest of Havoc Squad. From her hiding place on the shuttle, the sniper opened fire on the nearest Myrddraal. A single bolt carried off the Fade's head. A dozen nearby Trollocs collapsed as the headless Fade thrashed about wildly. The Trollocs had been linked to it. The rest of Havoc Squad including Malcolm emerged from cover and poured blaster fire into the Trollocs, who roared and moaned pathetically as they died. Malcolm began lobbing grenades into the Shadowspawn's back ranks. Cadsuane stepped about from around the boulder and, pushing out with the Force, unleashed a wave of Force energy, knocking dozens of Trollocs onto their backs. A Fade charged her, shrieking with rage, but Cadsuane blocked the creature's attack, severed its sword hand, then stabbed it through the chest. With a push of the Force she tossed the dying Fade into the oncoming Trollocs.

The Shadowspawn's numbers were thinning rapidly. Cadsuane was certain that they would break and flee at any second. Surprisingly, the Trollocs and Myrddraal held their ground. Then a pair of engines whirred overhead. Looking up, she saw that a second Imperial shuttle was en route. The surrounding foliage bristled and swayed in the wind from the engines' exhaust. The shuttle, its pilots seemingly oblivious to the battle below, touched down beside the temple, lowering its aft gangway. A squad of four Imperial soldiers descended the gangway and fanned out in a defensive formation. As Cadsuane watched through the melee, a group of ten Imperials hurriedly emerged from the Sith temple's entryway. Five of the Imperials were armed guards, four were wearing civilian clothing suited for jungle exploration, and one wore a black uniform and carried a red lightsaber: a Sith Lord. Two of the civilians - a pair of young men - were carrying a heavy plasteel chest between them.

 _An archaeological team,_ Cadsuane thought. _Whatever is in that chest_ , _they went through a lot of trouble to get it_. When the last Trolloc fell, Cadsuane charged the archaeologists as they made a dash for the shuttle. The Sith Lord spotted Cadsuane's lightsaber and motioned the guards to engage her. The squad by the gangway joined in. Nine blaster rifles opened fire on the aged Aes Sedai, but to no effect; Cadsuane easily deflected the incoming bolts by using a wall of Force energy as a shield. Her lightsaber seared through flesh and armor as she closed with her attackers.

Cadsuane reached the shuttle just as the gangway was being raised. All of the civilians and the Sith Lord had boarded the shuttle, along with their mysterious cargo. Cadsuane stole a look at the Sith Lord before the gangway closed. The Sith was a human female of moderate height, with black hair that hung to her chin, and a pair of blue eyes. She gave Cadsuane a smile right before the gangway closed and hid her from sight. Blaster shots sounded, and the shuttle's shields flickered; Havoc Squad was trying to prevent the Imperials' escape. The shuttle lifted off, engines roaring, and spirited into the night. Frustrated, Cadsuane sniffed and stowed her lightsaber.

Footsteps sounded behind the Aes Sedai. Havoc Squad, weapons lowered, formed a semicicle around her, with Captain Malcolm in the center.

"Blast!" The burly Sergeant cursed. "The bastard got away."

"Pipe down, Den," Malcolm ordered. "Not all is lost. Belag, were you able to get anything from their com chatter?"

A young Zabrak soldier with a radio pack lifted his head. "Yes sir. I heard the Imperial guards address the Sith woman as 'Lady Mesaana.'"

 _Mesaana!_ Cadsuane thought angrily. _One of the Forsaken loose among the Sith. Creator shelter us all._

Malcolm hefted his grenade launcher. "Alright troops, back to the shuttle. Let's get off this weed-covered rock. Command will want to know what happened here."


	11. Chapter 11: The Arena

The Deranak Arena was broad, shallow, and ringed with metal seating in an amphitheater style. In the center was a fighting pit coated with sand which, according to advertisements, had been transported from Tatooine. On the eastern side of the oval arena was a special viewing box for VIPs, while heavy durasteel doors along the pit's edge led to the understory. It was in the humid, dimly lit understory where Mat, Lan, and Amys now stood. Around them pit fighters of several different species jostled, boasted, and readied weapons. One fighter, a Wookie, brandished a heavy dual-bladed sword. In his guttural language the fighter challenged one of his fellows to a fight. Mat, seated on a bench and clad in his green coat and broad-brimmed hat, ignored the fighters and ran a whetstone over his _ashanderi_ , honing the blade to a razor edge. He felt the foxhead medallion go cold on his chest. Amys, seated next to him on the bench, was channeling. _No doubt preparing to show off_ , Mat thought. Nearby, Lan had his sword drawn and was practicing forms. Dressed in a suit of Imperial military armor found aboard the _Gambler's Folly_ , the Warder looked even more intimidating than usual. He moved with the same graceful ease despite his armor's encumbrance. Several pit fighters eyed him warily, either preparing to face him or dreading having to do so.

Similarly, Amys was also dressed for combat. The Wise One had discarded her dress in favor of a gray tactical suit that reminded Mat of a _cadin'sor_. A quarter dozen short spears, borrowed from the Arena's armory, were slung on her back in a leather sheath, along with a short bow. From her belt hung a long knife and a bag filled with arrows. A strip of black cloth fashioned into a _shoufa_ was tied around her neck. Perhaps in violation of Aiel tradition, Amys had become a Maiden of the Spear once more.

A hulking Gammorean carrying a truncheon rounded a corner. The pit fighters snapped to attention as he entered the chamber, recognizing him as the pit boss. "Listen up, scum," The pit boss grunted in his native language, "Opening match is gonna start soon. Volunteers to go first?"

The Wookie and a Trandoshan armed with an aging blaster rifle stepped forward, brandishing their weapons proudly. From yellowed lizard eyes the Trandoshan glared menacingly. "For the glory of the hunt," he growled.

The pit boss nodded approvingly. "Ready to spill some blood, are ya? Good. Follow me to the gate. Those of you that want to watch the fight, come as well. You all know the drill. Hop to it."

The Gammorean turned and walked down the corridor, brandishing his truncheon, while the Wookie and Trandoshan followed in his wake. Mat stood up and followed the bloodthirsty trio as they departed. Not to his surprise, Amys and Lan accompanied him. Lan had his sword sheathed but kept a hand on its pommel. One of Amys' spears was unsheathed and in hand, tip pointing outward, prepared to strike. As Mat walked down the dim passageway, he made a mental check of his gear. _Ashanderi_? Check. Knives? He twisted his wrists. The blades pressed against his coat and skin. Check. Blaster? The pistol holstered at his right hip knocked against his side. Check. Energy shield? Mat felt for the small metal casing on his belt. He pressed a switch, and the shield hummed to life as it came online. Check. Matrim Cauthon was ready for battle.

Up ahead, the Gammorean pit boss had stopped at a heavy cross-barred gate of durasteel, beyond which the arena's sandy floor was visible. He pushed a nearby button and, with some effort, the gate lifted open. The Wookie and Trandoshan pit fighters charged through the gate. From the opposite side, another gate opened, and two more fighters entered the arena. One was a male Rodian holding a pair of blaster pistols, while the other was a female Twil'ek armed with matching curved short swords. The crowd let out a tremendous roar of approval as the fighters approached the arena's center. Overhead a human male voice sounded loudly from a PA system.

"Give a big cheer for the owner of Derenak Arena... Zobra the Hutt!"

Again the crowd cheered. Louder, this time. Mat didn't believe that was possible until he heard the noise. Light!

"Thank you, Janin. Welcome, good people, to today's tournament," Zobra said into the PA. In typical, pompous Hutt fashion, he spoke in Huttese rather than Basic. "The roughest fighters from across the galaxy shall face each other in pitched combat. Cash prizes await the winners, and an ugly death for those less fortunate. Let the tournament begin!"

Zobra slithered aside, allowing a tall man with short blonde hair and a beard to take charge of the PA. "For the first round, Jindar the monster of Coruscant and Kyrak, the devil of Rishii, square off against the bloodthirsty ex-slaves Marina of Ryloth and Treelo of Hutta!" The crowd let out a tremendous cheer of approval.

As Mat watched from behind the safety of the gate, the four pit fighters faced each other, ready to attack at a second's notice. A horn sounded overhead, echoing throughout the arena. The fight began.

Jindar broke into a run, charging in Marina's direction, his duel-bladed sword raised for a strike. As he met Marina, the Twil'ek rolled to the left, out of the weapon's way. Jindar's strike sliced only through air. Marina, down on one knee, swung both her swords at the Wookie's vulnerable right leg, but Jindar skillfully turned right, blocked the strike with his weapon's opposite blade, then delivered a swift kick to Marina's chest, knocking the former slave on her back. Jindar thrust downward, hoping to pierce Marina's chest, but the Twil'ek rolled aside and jumped back to her feet. To gain an edge, Marina threw one of her swords close to Jindar's head. The Wookie made the mistake of watching the blade travel past his furry cheek. Marina exploited his error by sprinting towards Jindar and slicing open his neck.

 _Bad luck, fuzzball,_ Mat thought as the Wookie bled out.

Treelo and Kyrak both dove for cover when the match began, opening fire as they went. Kyrak ended up crouched behind a section of concrete wall and reloaded his rifle. The Rodian lobbed a thermal detonator towards Kyrak's position, forcing the Trandoshan to stand up and roll to another location and dodge the blast. The detonator's explosion threw a shower of sand into the air and left a small crater behind, but failed to inflict any damage.

With Jindar defeated, Marina rushed to rejoin Treelo, dodging blaster bolts from Kyrak as she ran. Mat could just barely see the two of them crouched down together behind a boulder. They must have been whispering to each other, Mat suspected, as a few second later both emerged from cover. Treelo stood up and unloaded his blaster pistols wildly at Kyrak. Marina took advantage of the covering fire and circled around to Kyrak's left. The Trandoshan returned fire at Treelo with accurate shots, no doubt hoping to score a headshot. He succeeded. A single bolt broke through Treelo's energy shield and punched a clean hole in his skull. The Rodian collapsed to the ground in a heap.

As Treelo fell, Kyrak shifted to his left ready to squeeze off a shot at Marina. The young Twil'ek was upon him before the veteran hunter could raise his weapon. Marina plunged both of her curved swords into Kyrak's chest, ending his life.

"Nicely done," Lan said approvingly.

"Give it up for Marina!" Janin boomed into the PA. The crowd roared their approval while Marina raised her bloodied swords in victory. Some audience members threw credits into the arena, all of which Marina gleefully caught. Someone held up a sign asking Marina to marry him, causing her to laugh. After a few more moments of reveling in glory, Marina withdrew from Derenak Arena a bloodier and wealthier woman. Five arena workers carried out the bodies of the deceased. Only a few bloodstains in the sand gave any hint to the previous engagement.

The dice began to tumble in Mat's head. _Blood and ashes, what now_? he groaned silently.

I hope you're ready to fight, meat," the Pit Boss grunted. "You and your pals are up next." Before Mat could protest, the gate opened, and Mat was walking out onto the sand.

"Now let's continue the tournament, good people," Janin announced once Marina had departed. "Up next is Captain Abel and his shipmates, Jain and Keri!"The crowd cheered. Mat, getting into the spirit of the event, spun his _ashanderi_ overhead in a flashy manner. Lan walked onto the sand behind Mat, his face unreadable as ever. Amys raised her makeshift shoufa and followed the two men, her bow drawn with an arrow nocked. Mat scanned the crowd as he entered. The only faces he recognized belonged to Niko Okarr and Hylo Visz. Both smugglers waved in his direction. Mat returned the kindness with a mock salute. The dice in his head stopped rolling.

"Challenging this ragtag crew of renegades is... the ruthless bounty hunter Shae Vizla!"

 _What_?! Thought Mat as his jaw dropped in shock. _Light_! Sure enough, Shae emerged through a gate at the arena's far end, clad from head to toe in her signature Mandalorian battle armor and carrying a blaster rifle. Her face was concealed behind the menacing, eyeless stare of her helmet.

Janin's voice boomed once more. "Let the match... BEGIN!"

Shae raised her rifle and fired a single shot in Mat's direction. His energy shield absorbed the impact while he dove for cover behind a sandy hummock. Lan and Amys also took cover. The Aiel Wise One loosed an arrow at Shae, which ricocheted harmlessly off her energy shields.

"Lan! Amys!" Mat called. "We need to bring her shields down. The One Power should do the trick. Can you do that for us, Amys?" The Wise One did not reply. Mat felt his foxhead medallion grow cold on his skin. A split second later, Amys sent a bolt of lighting in Shae's direction, striking her in the chest. Her shield faltered, but did not shut down entirely. Mat fired his blaster pistol at Shae twice. One shot missed while the other struck Shae's left shoulder, dropping her energy shield but inflicting no damage.

Peaking around his hiding place, Mat noticed that Shae was no more than thirty paces away. A man running at a full sprint could easily cover that distance. And with her shields down, Shae might be open to attack. Lan must have had the same thought, because he darted out from cover and charged at Shae, sword raised. Mat then remembered just how devious Mandalorians could be...

"Lan, don't!" Mat shouted, but the Warder took no notice. Shae allowed Lan to come within fifteen paces before unleashing her wrist-mounted flamethrower. The sudden wave of heat caused Lan to stagger and yelp in surprise and pain. His energy shield flickered and died and his hair caught fire, forcing the Warder to extinguish the flames with his bare hands. Shae raised her rifle again, ready to fire.

Mat stood up and fired his blaster at Shae. "Hey! Fire breeches!" Mat taunted. "Over here!"

Shae slung her rifle and pointed a finger at Mat. "You're good," she replied, "but I'm better!" A pair of flames shot out from her metal backpack, aiming downwards. A second later she began to hover above the sand.

 _Now that's just not fair..._ Mat thought. _A bloody_ jet pack?!

Lan recovered and swung his blade at Shae. His blow missed as the Mandalorian took to the air, flying upwards over Lan's head. Realizing that his opponent was now airborne with a ranged weapon, Lan darted for cover while Shae opened fire with her blaster rifle. The Warder's shields flickered out and a single bolt struck his right thigh, causing him to collapse behind a pile of sandbags. With Lan out of the picture, Shae turned toward Mat and flew in his direction, firing her rifle as she went. Mat allowed his energy shield to absorb the bolts. A sudden blast of air from Amys knocked Shae onto the ground and extinguished her jet pack. When she recovered, Mat found himself face to face with the infamous Shae Vizla.

The bounty hunter slung her rifle, drew a pair of knives, and charged at Mat, who dodged her initial attack and countered with his _ashanderi_ , striking her across the back. The weapon's edge left a gouge in her armor, but drew only a few drops of blood.

Amys, now too near her opponent to use the One Power, slung her bow and drew one of her short spears, closing the distance between her and Shae in just ten quick strides. Shae turned and met Amys' attack, unleashing her flamethrower. Even with her energy shields down, the Wise One rolled out of the way of the flames and thrust her spear at Shae, only to have her weapon snapped and a punch delivered to her head, knocking her out cold.

Mat was left alone with Shae. For a second, the two stood apart, eyeing one another, waiting for the other to make a move. Then Mat spoke. "Why challenge us, Shae?" he asked. "What's all this about?"

"Defeat me, and I'll tell you," Shae responded and attacked again. She and Mat then became embroiled in a duel - one with twin knives, the other with an _ashanderi_. Back and forth attacks were made, parried and blocked, until finally Shae delivered a kick to Mat's left knee, knocking him to the ground. For one terrifying second, Mat looked straight into the visor of Shae's helmet, certain that his life was over. Then suddenly, Shae froze. Mat wondered why she had hesitated... until he noticed the sword blade protruding through her midriff. Lan, though limping, had recovered. Shae collapsed on top of Mat, bleeding out, and Lan withdrew his sword.

"Captain Abel and his crew are the victors!" came the voice of Janin through the PA. The crowd roared in approval.

"No," said Mat, clutching Shae's body in his lap. "No, _no_ , NO! Lan, we needed her alive!"

"There is still time to save her life, Mat," Lan said calmly. He then went to fetch Amys, who was back on her feet. The Wise One kneeled down beside Mat, placed her hands on Shae's chest, and channeled. The foxhead medallion froze on Mat's chest. Shae spasmed, coughed, then removed her helmet and vomited a small amount of blood. Still lying in Mat's lap, she turned her head to face him. "Thanks for that," she said with a wink. "Now things get are going to get _real_ interesting."


End file.
